


Cursing the Unforgivables

by verdeveritas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, F/M, Half-Blood Hermione Granger, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley Bashing, Not Canon Compliant, Ron Weasley Bashing, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 114,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdeveritas/pseuds/verdeveritas
Summary: Hermione Granger has been manhandled by a Devil's Snare, petrified, and has cleared the name of the escapee Sirius Black. After the death of her parents, she decides to take matters into her own hands. *Story begins after TPoA. This work belongs to JKR, and I don't get paid to write this.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 114
Kudos: 319





	1. Frustration

**_Disclaimer: I do not own anything. This world is the fine work of J.K. Rowling, and I'm just playing in the sandbox._ **

**_Author's Note: This starts in early 1995 before "The Goblet of Fire." There are some creative liberties taken here. Sirius has been cleared by the Ministry, because Hermione is very clever. He's free and at Grimmauld Place. Voldemort is rumored to be back, as annoying as ever, and Hermione is not going to be a fragile, wilting, swot in this story. No, she's furious. She's mad at Dumbledore, she's mad at Voldemort. She literally wants to bury Death Eaters when she sees them. She decided to take matters into her own hands by doing something very clever, and that's where we begin this journey. This is a badass scheming Hermione who's trying to outmaneuver two older wizards, and an eventual Dramione. There will be Dumbledore and Weasley bashing. There will be death. I had this plunny and I'm letting it out to play. If you don't like it, don't read it. I'm doing this for fun._  
**

* * *

Hermione knew what she was in for when she started down this rabbit hole, at least, that's what she had told herself. She was coming to the conclusion she wouldn't be able to figure this one out alone. She needed someone else to bounce ideas off of. She needed other people to talk this through with. She couldn't make sense of why nothing she had attempted had worked. She needed insight. She needed new eyes, ears, hell, a new everything. She pulled her bushy brown hair out of her face in a huff, tired of it touching her incessantly.

Deciding to pack it in for the night, she closed her books and stacked them into a neat pile on the corner of her desk. She had claimed this section of the library in Grimmauld for herself, setting up all of her research ideas amongst the large desk. No one really came in here aside from her and Remus, anyway.

"Remus! Of course! I should have thought to speak to him about this earlier on. It would have yielded some progress by now, I'm sure," an exasperated Hermione scolded herself. She was stuck, and who better to help her to understand Dark curses better than her former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor! She resolved to speak with him tomorrow, right now, she needed sleep. School would be starting up again soon enough. Fifth year, without her parents, with Death Eaters and curses and all other manners of nasty things. At least the Basilisk was already dead.

She was thankful the Weasley's had taken her in after the death of her parents. After the definite return of Voldemort, his followers were wreaking havoc in the wizarding and Muggle world, alike. He was wasting no time in taking out those who he deemed to pose a threat to him. It was only luck that Hermione wasn't at home that day, having gone over to the Burrow to see the Weasley's for dinner after her shift at Flourish and Blotts had ended. Her parents, unfortunately, weren't so lucky. It was still unclear whether or not their deaths were intentional, but Hermione didn't believe in coincidence. Not when it came to anything that had to deal with the Dark Mark.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she decided to Floo back to the Burrow to get some rest. Since the Floo was already connected to Grimmauld, she could come here as often as she liked to escape the cacophony of the Weasley home. No one asked her about it, too much. Her parents had just been murdered that summer, and it was not shocking to them that Hermione would want to disappear into a library for hours each day. Sometimes Harry came along to see Sirius and Remus, but he often also stayed behind to play a friendly game of Quidditch with the Weasley clan. Harry knew she needed to be alone sometimes, but he also knew when she was falling into another bout of melancholy and would refuse to let her stay there for long. Sometimes he would sit quietly with her in the library, just being silent company. Other times he would force her to sit on one of the dusty couches and talk about what was bothering her that day. She wasn't sure how he always knew, but he did, and he had lost his own parents. Refusing to wallow, though, Hermione had allowed herself some time to grieve, and then she forced herself to start moving forward. Her parents were dead, and there was nothing she could do to change that. She could, however, try to stop it from happening to someone else.

She packed her personal items into her bag, Undetectable Extension charmed, of course, and left the library to saunter into the living room. She was so tired, she didn't realize she was literally dragging her feet, and she was staring at the ground, lost in thought.

"Hermione, you're still here?"

"Oh! Hey Remus. I'm working on a project and lost track of time again. I would actually like to pick your brain about it tomorrow, if that's okay?"

Remus looked at her, searching for some hint as to what it was she was working on, but she had learned to school her features well since he'd last seen her. "Sure. I don't see the harm in it. Is this for school?"

Hermione laughed quietly, "No, I know I work ahead a lot of the time, but this is far bigger than that. I'm not sure it can even be done. I keep hitting a wall and I need someone else to bounce ideas off of."

"I'm sure the twins could be of help there," Remus said with a smile. The twins were brilliant, and Hermione knew it, but they excelled at creating things. They were jokesters.

"I'm sure they could, but this is really intricate magic. It's about alteration, not creation. I feel like I'm missing pieces and I need someone who might see what I'm missing," she said with a pout. It was obvious this was bothering her.

"I'll see what I can do, Hermione. I'm not sure what it is you're working on, but I'm sure it's going to be a lot of work if you've not yet found the solution."

Hermione scrunched up her nose in frustration. "You can say that again. This is driving me spare."

"Alright, alright. I'll rope Sirius into it, too. He's pretty good with magic, even if he is a pranking arsehole a lot of the time," Remus winked conspiratorially.

"I'll take whatever help I can get," she said with a soft smile.

"Go! Get some rest. We'll see you in the morning. _After_ you have eaten a decent breakfast," Remus added. He knew she'd been neglecting food. This was her normal when she was stressed out. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep. She read. She studied. She would throw herself into a project just to have something to keep her hands busy, though this one seemed to mean a great deal to her. He had peeked at some of the study materials she'd left out on her desk in the library, and from what he had seen she was trying to change the wizarding world. Not that that was new, or surprising. He didn't know all the details though, and until he did he couldn't help her implement her idea.

"Deal. I need a bit of a lie-in, I think. I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Remus," she grabbed a bit of Floo powder, and with a wave, threw it and shouted, "The Burrow!" and she was gone. Remus shook his head just slightly. That girl was going to be trouble once she had a full education. Hell, she was a grief-stricken teenager and she was already trouble enough. Remus hadn't missed how her eyes were hollowed and dark, or how she'd started to thin. He also hadn't missed the determined look in her eye when she had pulled herself back together after the burial of her parents. A force to be reckoned with, and the wrong witch to anger. She was up to something, and he knew it was big. He just wasn't sure if he was going to be much help.

Sighing himself, Remus pulled himself out of the book he was reading and went in search of Sirius. He knew his friend was also concerned for the witch, often hovering in the library doorway to make sure she was at least drinking something while she was immersing herself in her research. The Black library wasn't as large as the one at Hogwarts, but it was the only safe library she currently had access to, and he was more than happy to let her have run of the place if it brought her any amount of solace. He might be a bastard from time to time, but he wasn't that much of a bastard.

Remus shuffled through the house until he found Sirius in the kitchen, predictably eating one of his chocolate bars. He just rolled his eyes and sat down across from his longtime friend, holding his hand out for the return of his property.

"She finally left to get some sleep?" Sirius inquired, smirking as he handed Remus the rest of his chocolate.

"She did. It seems she's ready to get some help on whatever she's been working on. She's kept it pretty hush, but asked to pick my brain tomorrow. You're coming, too. She said she needs sounding boards," Remus explained.

"Hermione wouldn't be Hermione if she gave up. I'm not really shocked she asked you for help."

"I was her teacher once, so I can't say I'm surprised either. I'm guessing it has something to do with the nature of her research though."

"The Unforgivables? Yeah, I snooped through some of her research. She is brilliant. If she can find a way to do it, I think it just might change everything."

"On that, we agree Padfoot. I'll take whatever help we can get. If nothing else, it's at least helped to keep her distracted. Richard and Helen didn't deserve any of that."

"No. They didn't." Sirius' eyes turned dark and stormy. He was furious when he had heard what happened. Why hadn't anyone thought to put protections around the house? Hermione and her parents had been unprotected since her first year at Hogwarts. It was not as if she, as a student, could have done it. Dumbledore was remiss in his treatment of Muggle-born students. Minerva certainly would have done it, had she been permitted.

"She's doing the best she can, I imagine. I'm glad she's thrown herself into a research project, rather than drink all your firewhiskey," Remus remarked, knowing full well how Sirius tended to deal with things when he was upset.

"Look Moony, I get that I drink too much but leave it alone, will you? I do agree. She's stronger than anyone gives her credit for," Sirius said, sobering. "She's not yet an adult and has managed so many things better than either of us ever did. She lost both of her parents all at once. At least ours took turns," he remarked quietly.

Remembering the passing of the Potters was not something either of them liked to do. They were the parents they had wished for as children. They never spared a thought about harboring a werewolf and a Black for Christmas hols, or what it could mean for them given the times. They were lovely people, wonderfully sweet really. It was no reason James had been so persistent with Lily. After meeting Charlus and Dorea, it was clear he aspired to a relationship like his parents. Similar to what he'd watched since he was a child. It truly didn't matter how fervently Lily denied him, he would never have given up on her unless she had literally married someone else. Anyone could see that Lily and James were absolutely it for one another though and losing them had been immensely painful. Losing Charlus and Dorea hadn't been any better. _Firewhiskey is my friend,_ thought Sirius.

Remus could only nod at his remark. Hermione was strong, surely intelligent, and absolutely clever. She had a way of thinking that most witches would not, and she was not afraid to question others about it. It was something he admired about her. So young, and yet so determined to make a difference. Harry was her best friend, and despite having lost everything simply because of his friendship, never once did she make it out to be because of Harry that her parents had died. She knew too well he was already apt to blame himself for everything, and she wouldn't be likely to help him. He carried guilt and responsibility around as if it were his literal ball and chain, and Hermione did her absolute best to ensure he didn't drown himself in it.

"Too right, Padfoot. Let's not go there though. I'm not in a particularly drinking mood, seeing as how we're going to need to be up early to help Hermione stay distracted," Remus said seriously. "She needs whatever this project is, and frankly, I'm interested in what she's working on."

"I'm sure it will be nothing short of magical," Sirius said with a barely suppressed grin.

"Your puns may be the death of me one day, Padfoot."

"Unlikely. I've been subjecting you to them for many years already. I'm shocked you haven't keeled over by now what with the sheer absurdity that spouts from my mouth."

"Go to bed Padfoot."

Remus shook his head to himself, mostly, as he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. It was the middle of the month, and thankfully he wasn't having to _currently_ worry about the moon. He _may_ get some rest. Possibly. Probably not.

Sirius wasn't likely to, either. Hermione was family, and now she had lost her own parents. It would have been '"unseemly for such a young woman to stay with two men and a boy," according to Molly, otherwise she and Harry would most likely have been living with them at Grimmauld. Due to Hermione not being allowed to stay with them, Harry had also taken up residence at The Burrow for the time being. As it was, Hermione spent most of her time there anyway, likely needing peace and quiet as opposed to the chaos of the Burrow.

Sirius had always taken his chosen family very seriously. His parents had been horrid, his brother had turned Death Eater, and Sirius had never belonged. So, he had made his own family with the help of James and Remus, and before they had known better, Peter. Remus was devastated by the death of James and Lily, but Sirius still blamed himself for it. Had always blamed himself for it. Now that he had Harry and Hermione in his life, there was no way he would do less than everything in his power to protect them both.

Sirius sat in his study long into the night, worrying, fidgeting, getting well and properly pissed, before finally relenting and sending himself to bed. It was too late for Hermione's parents, but he would do what he could for her. Unfortunately, there was no way to know if it would be enough for any of them. They all knew war was on the doorstep. They all knew death was possible. All he could was truly and keep an eye on her and his godson. Remus was a great duelist. He and Sirius had already survived one war, but with the way Albus was going on about it, they may not survive this one unless they were very careful. Being careful was not something his godson was really adept at, and Hermione was the one who inevitably tended to bail him out of whatever trouble he had gotten himself into. Sirius poured himself another whisky and knocked it back in one, knowing there was only so much he would be able to do to protect them once they went back to Hogwarts.

Neither Hermione nor Harry were the kind of people to turn away when something needed to be done, or someone was in need. Harry was very much like his father, so caring, and so very Gryffindor in his bravery. Hermione though, it's likely she would have been accepted into any house had her only qualifiers needed to be her mind and attributes. She was intelligent, she was caring, she was courageous, and she was undoubtedly ambitious and cunning when called for. Hermione Granger embodied all of the houses, and she had never shown fear when it came to doing what was necessary. Helen and Richard Granger had done an amazing job of raising their daughter, and it was because of them his godson had such a wonderful friend and confidant.

It was because of this, Sirius knew Hermione would be able to exact change in the world if she survived the war. It was also because of this, he knew Hermione was aware of the lies Dumbledore had told her regarding the deaths of her parents. Sirius had gone with Dumbledore and Remus to retrieve her belongings from her former home after word of her parent's deaths had reached them. Sirius had looked around at the wreckage, completely aghast at the damage which had been done to her childhood home. It was evident, upon stepping foot inside, that her parents had been targeted and murdered. The air hung heavy with magic, dark, cloying, and deadly. That particular stench of death could not be brought about by anything other than the depravity of Death Eaters.

The house had been ransacked, but the focus of destruction had been Hermione's rooms. They had obviously been searching for something there, and the death of her parents was likely just a plus to the sycophantic murderers. The three of them made quick work of collecting Hermione's items, as well as personal family documentation and pictures, for her. Dumbledore had decided it would be best to tell Hermione the fire had been an accident, though he had in fact decided to set it with the idea in mind that Hermione would not be able to see the damage or the bloodstains if they didn't exist. Sirius argued Hermione had a right to know exactly how much danger she was in, how much she was being targeted. He genuinely believed she had the right to know what had happened to her family, having been suggested to Dumbledore's particular brand of secrecy on more than one occasion.

Dumbledore was wont to do what he liked, so she was sat down in the Weasley's kitchen and was told her parents were dead. She was told it was likely an accident. A house fire. Sirius could see just by looking at her that she didn't believe it. Her eyes had narrowed, going hard, and her countenance flat and unmoving. She asked for her things. She asked where she would be staying. She thanked them for retrieving her personal items, and pictures, and retreated into the room she would be sharing with Ginny immediately, requesting privacy to process. She didn't cry until many days later, on one of her forays with Harry over to Grimmauld seeking some peace from the chaos that was embodied in the Weasley twins.

Sirius could see the steel beneath her eyes. He watched as she hardened herself with the loss of her parents, and he hated to see it. He hated that she'd ever had to experience it. Hermione had spent the afternoon with Harry, Remus, and himself in quiet comfort. Somehow, she had worked through her disbelief, and he could see her determination to move forward. Sirius had never been more irked at Dumbledore, and he wanted to tell Hermione the whole truth, but he knew he didn't need to. She didn't need the details, she knew her family had been taken from her.

In the coming days, she had spent more and more time at Grimmauld, and Sirius saw no reason to bother the young witch. She had holed herself up in the library working on some idea she'd had, and a distraction was likely to be a good thing. Sirius had never been more thankful the witch had been so quick on her feet when Remus had transformed and Pettigrew had tried to get away. Instead of panicking, she had cast a charm on the rat so she could easily levitate him up to the castle, dragging Harry behind her at a run. Remus had still been sacked and Snape had been irate, but Sirius' name had been cleared with the existence of Pettigrew and the memories of what had transpired in the Shrieking Shack. Dumbledore hadn't seemed to be pleased regarding those turns of events, but it wasn't something he could very well stop. He was glad because he could offer a place of solace for her that she may not otherwise have.

Hermione had hardened herself, she had decided something the moment Dumbledore didn't tell her the whole truth, and though it pained Sirius to see it, it also gave him hope. If she could see the folly of the old man, maybe others would too.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Sirius dragged himself off of his favorite chair towards the stairs and his bedroom. He knew she would be over as soon as she had eaten breakfast, and he was so very curious about what she had been working on. It would be best for him to get some rest, knowing her it would require the use of his faculties to assist her. She was very clever, and her cleverness often took strange turns from time to time. She was not unlike the twins in that regard. Sirius flopped onto his bed, fully dressed, and fell asleep post-haste.


	2. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione realizes exactly how tired she is, and something has to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thank you all for reading! I'm honestly quite shocked anyone has found this marginally interesting, but I appreciate it nonetheless. :) I'm going to try and update weekly, likely on Sundays because it's when I have the most free time. Please let me know if you see any spelling errors or grammatical mistakes. I do what I can but I'm bound to miss things. Additionally, as a personal note, I am generally appalled at JKR's treatment of anyone not cis and straight. [I don't want my story to become politicized, as this is a fun story I wanted to write, and it helps me relax. Politics DO NOT help me relax, ya'll. I just need it to be said I love all LGBTQIA+ persons and they are valid and wonderful and brave because they live their truth.] That being said, I still love the universe and I want to play in it. I'll be doing my own thing when it comes to this story, and I don't have all the details ironed out yet. I hope you stick with me to see what my crazy brain comes up with. :D Enjoy the chapter!

Upon arriving back at the Burrow, Hermione was suitably tired. The green flames harmlessly licked around her body as she was deposited, unceremoniously, into the living area of the Burrow. The cacophony of the Weasley clan hit her full force, and she wished she could just sneak upstairs and sleep.

"Oh, good, Hermione dear. We're just about to sit down to eat. You're right on time," said Molly warmly. She looked at Hermione with such pity, it was as if she were fit to shatter at any moment.

"Lovely, I'll be there in a moment," Hermione replied. Her smile was wan and subdued, but there. She loved the Weasley's, even if it was a lot to take sometimes. Fred and George were absolutely a handful, but they did their best to make her laugh, which Hermione said grateful for. They had also been doing their fair share of keeping Ronald from saying anything stupid, probably in fear for his life after the last time he opened his mouth.

Molly nodded as Hermione toted her bag up the stairs to the room she shared with Ginny. She didn't mind sharing her space most times, as thankfully, Ginny was a kempt person. She did not leave her things lying around, and Hermione appreciated a tidy living area.

It was one of the reasons the Weasley home was so stressful for her. What she ultimately needed was peace and order. Their room was about the only place Hermione was likely to have any of that. Fred and George were constantly causing explosions, Ron left his clothes, shoes, books, parchment...Ron left all his things wherever he pleased. She did not want to see the pity on their faces, either. Harry was the only one who got it, aside from Remus and Sirius. They understood her. Hermione knew the Weasleys cared for her, but it was not the same as understanding. And Ron! He was going to drive her mad with all the stupid comments that kept falling out of his mouth. Last time it had been, "What's it matter Hermione, you've still got us!" Really. She had borrowed Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex and Ron was sneezing out bats in a matter of moments.

Molly was constantly trying to get Hermione to "grieve," by bringing up her parents. Hermione honestly did not see the point. They were gone. She had cried. She had sobbed brokenhearted into Harry's shirt, on Sirius' shoulder, sitting across from Remus as he held her hand with a knowing look on his face. They had not coddled her; they had just let her process her grief at her own pace. They had been respectful of her needs and wishes whilst Molly was trying to force her, and it made it so much harder to be around the woman she had often thought of as her wizarding mum. Hermione was quite shocked at Molly's forcefulness and had taken to avoiding her when possible, which made Hermione sad for a whole slew of other reasons. She missed her Mum and Dad fiercely, but more than anything, she was angry. They should not have been such easy targets, and Dumbledore let that happen. Dumbledore had not protected them, and he should have.

For as long as she could remember, Hermione had been told she was bright, intelligent, and she could do whatever she had set her mind to. People often tended to overlook she was also compassionate, deeply caring, loyal, and intensely private. The loss of her parents was a shock, but it was not something she had been unprepared for. She knew the wizarding world could sometimes bleed into the Muggle world, and if that was not enough, she had known befriending Harry Potter made her a target of sorts. She had worked it out after the end of their first year at Hogwarts. Her parents had always been in danger of being attacked, though Hermione had not expected something like this. The statute of secrecy was not something many wizards were willing to contest. Never mind the consensus regarding religion had turned more negative than positive in the last fifteen years, or that human beings in general were capable of great change and understanding provided they were afforded the benefit of the doubt. No, forgetting those details, yes it made the most sense for Wizarding Britain to remain hidden from the prying eyes of primitive Muggle-kind. She might have some feelings on the matter that was in no way related to the deaths of her parents. Possibly. Maybe.

She had known when Dumbledore sat her down, he was not telling her the whole truth. That damnable twinkle was in his eye, and she knew what it meant. She had seen it all too often while he was busy placating Harry concerning having to live with the Dursley's in their first and second years. She knew it meant he was hiding something. The fact that he had been so obstinate when it came to getting Sirius' name cleared with the Wizengamot had been another mark against him, in her book. Sirius had never been the guilty party, and they had gotten proof of it. Any decent witch or wizard would be able to turn Pettigrew back to human form, and they could trace his magical signature, as well as his blood! Not too mention the memories Harry, Hermione, and surprisingly, Snape had offered up regarding Peter's confession of wrong-doing, as well as other details that they'd seen, how long Scabbers had been in the Weasley family, missing a toe… Dumbledore had tried to deny the credibility of such things, until Hermione had said she would send for the Aurors herself, and she'd be contacting the Ministry regarding getting Sirius' name cleared. At the time, Sirius had looked at her as if she had grown a second head, but she was already tired of Dumbledore's games, even then. Ron had been in the hospital wing to have his broken leg tended, but when asked he had happily given memories too.

Hermione steeled herself for yet another harrowing Weasley dinner. Since the death of her parents, Molly and Arthur had felt the need to call for Charlie and Bill to come home more often. Everyone felt the shift from peace to turbulence, and the Weasley clan was no exception. With the addition of Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and shockingly Percy from time to time, the kitchen which was generally already crowded, was positively brimming with people. Sometimes even Remus and Sirius would pop over for dinner, but it was few and far between simply for the lack of space. Hermione really could have used their calming presence. She was stalling. She knew she was stalling. She sighed and made her way down the well-worn stairs to dinner.

She could hear the ruckus from the kitchen before she had even reached the bottom of the steps. Forcing herself forward, she nudged the swinging door open to find herself an empty seat at the table, standing there for a moment. Alas, there was only one chair open, and it was between Fred and Bill. Hermione didn't feel up to putting up with the twins throughout dinner, but she did not have much of a choice. If nothing else, they would surely have gotten a laugh or two from her with their shenanigans. She strode purposefully to her chair and took a seat, Harry already pouring her some pumpkin juice. At list Fleur wasn't here, and neither was Percy or Charlie, so there was a little bit of breathing room.

Once she'd been seated, she sat through the inevitable greetings of, "Hermione!, Good to see you!, You're looking well! How have you been?" which she had tried to answer, and nod, and smile a smile that wasn't completely forlorn.

"Thanks, Harry," she said with a subdued smile of gratitude nodding toward the juice.

"You're welcome. Make any progress today?"

Over the clamorous conversation of the twins, "Nothing yet. I'm going to meet with Remus and Sirius in the morning to see if they've any ideas about why I can't seem to get anywhere."

"That's a good idea. They're pranksters, but first and foremost, they're both rather brilliant. People are always forgetting that about them."

"OI! YOU TAKE THAT BACK -"

"HARRY POTTER! THE MARAUDERS-"

"ARE THE MOST BRILLIANT-"

"WIZARDS TO HAVE EVER LIVED!" Fred and George volleyed at him. Hermione smiled a little more warmly at their antics. They were always good for a laugh, and they had been worshiping The Marauders since their first year in school. They were also correct in that Remus and Sirius were rather brilliant, though they seemed to have somehow missed the point that Harry had remarked the same thing.

"I'm aware of how you worship my godfather and his best friend," Harry said with an eye roll. "I wasn't referring to you two, I was actually talking about Sirius and Remus."

"Really, Hermione, I don't know why you're spending all your time over there. They can't be helpful right now, with everything that's going on with you. What would they know about helping a young woman greive?" remarked Molly ignorantly. Hermione knew she meant well, but honestly, there were moments where she realized Molly Weasley did not quite understand her at all. In fact, Molly's way of thinking seemed to be rather limited. She was nearly sure Molly's outdated sense of propriety had something to do with it, though Hermione couldn't be arsed to care, other than she was being subjected to it unfairly and without permission.

"I like the library, and it has the space I need to work on this project. I've already taken over an entire corner with parchment and books," Hermione said as politely as she could.

Across the table, Ginny gave Hermione a soft smile. Ginny understood what Hermione needed right now was a quiet space to work. She had witnessed Hermione puzzle out several problems over the previous few years, and Hermione worked best when she could sit and puzzle her way out of the box she found herself trapped in. Like a logic puzzle, Hermione always assumed there was an answer to be had if she could but see it. Ginny had even seen a few of Hermione's "eureka" moments when the solution came to her suddenly and inexplicably. Hermione smiled back in answer. She and Ginny weren't all too close, but they at least understood one another and, sometimes that is all that's needed.

"It just doesn't seem right, you spending so much time with two grown adult men," Molly grumbled uncharitably. Hermione wasn't sure what Molly's issue was, but it wasn't Hermione's place to placate the matriarch. Truly, she was becoming sick of this argument rather quickly, and the implication that Remus or Sirius would do anything untoward set her teeth on edge. It was incredibly thin, and veiled, but Hermione could feel the undercurrent of suspicion in Molly's tone. It irked her.

"She isn't even around them most of the time, Mrs. Weasley. She's locked herself in the library, so ensconced in books and puzzles she doesn't hear her name being called. Sirius and Remus just live there, it's not like they're always bothering her or anything," Harry interjected quickly. He was always quick to defend Sirius. He was his godfather, and he hadn't been slow to pick up on Molly's slow jibes, either. He knew Hermione needed a space for herself. The Burrow was so converse to what she was used to in her former home life, and Harry could relate to that feeling. At least he'd had Dudley around to desensitize him to the noise.

"He's right Mrs. Weasley. The only time I even see them is when they remind me it's time to eat lunch and to be here for dinner," Hermione replied easily. She looked across the table at Harry, the thank you silently thought at him evident in her chocolate eyes and gentle facial expression.

"Come now, Molly. They're good men and they know what it's like to feel as Hermione feels right now. Leave her be," interjected Arthur. Arthur seemed to understand some things better than his wife, and he did not have the crazy idea in his head Hermione, who was underage, was somehow being taken advantage of by the two men. He knew better and didn't see a reason to entertain the idea given Hermione could reasonably defend herself in that case. She was in fact, "the brightest witch," and he knew if there had been anything untoward Hermione would have hexed them both, or simply said so. He could see that Molly's constant overbearing presence was a hindrance to Hermione healing, so he tried to curb his wife's temper and need to meddle wherever possible.

"Honestly Mum, Hermione can't be persuaded from her books, "Ron commented, mouth full of food, "She's got this superpower when it comes to reading. It's like nothing else exists," he said in a very matter of fact tone. Though he still had food in his mouth Hermione appreciated him saying so simply because it would deter Molly at least somewhat. Hermione also knew, however, that it was a jab at her general behavior for not being around more.

"A skill you could learn to emulate, Ronald!" she said, irritated. Ron had become increasingly irritating regarding her reading habits. All he had to say was she read too much, and he wanted more of her time. Selfish, so selfish. Hermione wasn't in the habit of placating Ronald Weasley, and she was not about to start now. Her parents had died, and all she wanted was to be left alone, which Ronald seemed to take personal exception to.

"Why bother, you already seem to know everything!" Ron replied scathingly. His face had gone red, as it was likely to do when he was annoyed.

"Someone has to make sure you don't fail your classes!" Hermione retorted hotly. Her hair had begun to frizz out of control again, sparking at the ends.

Hermione, already irritated, decided to ignore him in favor of eating her dinner. Molly had made a lot of everything, as per usual. She opted for a light salad, not feeling particularly hungry or willing to eat. She missed the glance that passed between Harry and Ginny. There had been a time when Ron had believed he and Hermione might one day be a couple, but with the loss of her parents, Hermione had seemed to pull away from him as he made idiotic remarks more and more often. She had once had the patience to deal with one or two, but lately, it seemed as if the friends were at odds. Ron continued making barbed comments for attention, and she kept ignoring them with naught but a look of severe displeasure on her face. Most of the time.

"How goes the treaty with the Goblins, Bill?" Arthur asked quickly, seeking to avoid another row between his youngest son and his nearly adopted daughter.

"Oh, as well as can be expected. The Ministry is undermining all they do and belittling their culture, while I'm caught in the middle and trying not to get stabbed in the process of mediating their interactions, "said Bill with false cheer. He had been working as a Curse Breaker with Gringotts for several years at that point, and though he was also a wizard, he was one of the few on good terms with the Goblins. Bill had always kept his word to them and that mattered a great deal when brokering terms with wizards of any kind. He may be a Curse Breaker, but the Goblins trusted him, and as such, he often ended up invited by both parties to be a mediator, and he did his best to ensure the Goblin's were given a fair shake. The laws being what they were, it was hard to do.

"Oh, that sounds decidedly unpleasant," Hermione remarked.

"Just another day in the life, really. I'm not bored," Bill said with a shrug, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes.

"Yes, well there is that," Hermione commented with a wry grin.

"What are you up to Hermione?" Bill asked with curiosity. "I know you can't do spells here, and you can at Grimmauld because it's under the Fidelius. It's helpful for avoiding the trace, to be sure."

"Well I'm working on a way to layer spells on wands, so basically all I'm doing right now is trying to figure out wand work and how it's done. It's a lot of research that's not working out quite right, honestly."

"Ah, well I'm sure Sirius or Remus could point you in a good direction if you're stuck. I'd also be willing to lend a hand," he offered.

"Thanks! I may take you up on that."

"Doesn't really tell us what you're trying to do though," Molly said suspiciously.

"Oh, it's nothing big. Just trying to settle some of my curiosities and it's keeping me busy," Hermione replied hurriedly. Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry knew Hermione better than anyone, save maybe Ginny, and knew the genial tone of deflection quite well. She'd used it on him, more than once.

"What would have you curious enough to want to learn wand work?" Molly asked suspiciously.

"Well, it isn't something they teach, is it? I'm curious as to how it's all put together. What makes the components want to work together? Why do you think they choose a certain kind of witch or wizard? If you could put a spell on a wand, for example, could you make it work better? Could you stop it from working altogether? It's theory, and I'm curious, and I have time since I'm not allowed to go back to Flourish and Blotts to finish out the summer. Dumbledore says it's too risky, no matter how much I might disagree," Hermione finished moodily. Having eaten about a quarter of her salad, she truly wasn't hungry anymore. "I'm tired. I think I'll head up and get ready for bed. I've got to get over to Grimmauld after breakfast."

Hermione excused herself from the table without another word and disappeared out of the kitchen without so much as a goodnight. The people at the table looked thoughtful at her comments, as if they had forgotten she was smart because she was grieving the loss of her parents. Harry could see Bill's mind running around what she had said. Since Bill was a Curse Breaker, he might have some ideas as to how those things worked. Magic was hardly inexplicable, but it wasn't precisely easy to understand, and that's what Hermione seemed to be after. She had always loved magic and everything about it, and she only wanted to understand. Arthur seemed as if he'd never bothered to care about why wands worked. Of course, the materials worked together but he'd no other interest in it. Ginny apparently had already known and had not batted an eye. Ron was still eating, ignoring the table in general. Fred and George looked pensive, which was likely not going to be a good thing in the long run. Molly still looked put out that she couldn't control Hermione's actions when visiting his godfather's home, and Harry knew it was unlikely to change very soon.

* * *

Hermione slogged up the staircase into her shared bedroom, quite done with dinner and Molly Weasley. She appreciated Arthur all the more for his ability to intercede on her behalf, otherwise Hermione had no doubt she wouldn't be visiting Remus or Sirius often at all. While she appreciated the place to stay after her parents' death, Hermione thought to herself, not for the first time, she needed a more permanent and conducive solution than what she currently had. She considered asking Remus or Sirius to adopt her…that would teach Molly Weasley to mind her own business, surely. Hermione had never needed a protector or someone to control her actions. She was raised to be cognizant of her actions and her responsibilities. She found being under Molly's care to be stifling, and she knew she wouldn't be willing to abide it for long. She'd go mad.

Hermione grabbed a pair of flannels and sauntered to the bathroom for a much-needed shower, pleased to let the hot water cascade over her neck, shoulders, and back to beat out the tension she always seemed to carry there. Rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she turned off the water and stepped out. Wrapping herself in a towel, she set about rubbing conditioner into her hair, along with some Sleek-Eazey's hair potion to tame her curls. She had been trying to get better control of her errant hair for the past year or so, simply to make it easier to manage. She pulled her hair back into a simple plait and got dressed, intent on heading to bed immediately. If she could get up early enough, she might be able to get out of the door without being harassed all too much.

"Unlikely," Hermione whispered under her breath. She got into bed and pulled covers up over her, hoping against hope she would get some sleep tonight. She'd been plagued with nightmares since the death of her parents, and they showed no signs of stopping. She was exhausted, bone-weary, and all she wanted to do was sleep, and go about her life without interference.

Hermione was coming to the unfortunate conclusion that if she wished for life without Molly Weasley's interference, she was going to need to find a way out of this house. She found herself more than thankful of Arthur, in fact he was very similar to her father in that he believe she would always do what was right and what was best. It helped to have him around. Moll, however, never seemed to stop hounding her about every little thing she could. She found, given the choice, she didn't fancy being Molly's adopted daughter. She found herself feeling rather sorry for Ginny, given she was the only Weasley daughter and would have her mother breathing down her neck until the end of time. On the one hand, Hermione knew the matriarch did it out of love and concern for her children, but on the other Hermione found her to be incredibly nosy, and entitled to what was going on their lives. Hermione simply wouldn't be able to live like that. As if she weren't intelligent and entitled to her privacy, as if there was no trust between them. She thought, I miss my Mum, and silent tears prompting began leaking their way down her cheeks. She didn't remember falling asleep.


	3. Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione seeks help, and is gifted the opportunity for more than she expected.

Hermione awoke, shooting up off her mattress, breathing as if she had just run a mile. Would the nightmares never cease?! She groaned quietly, thankful she didn't wake Ginny this time. Sometimes her nightmares could become quite loud indeed. Hermione turned her battery-operated alarm clock around, only to see it was just half four in the morning. Hermione groaned a little louder this time, pulling back her covers and setting her feet on the cold, wooden floor.

" _I'm already awake, might as well get a move on,"_ Hermione thought bitterly to herself. She knew she would not be getting back to sleep for some time after a dream like that, and if she had managed it, she would likely sleep past noon. She had things to do today, so sleeping in was not an option. Hermione grabbed a Black Sabbath t-shirt and some jeans out of her trunk and went through her morning ablutions before hitting the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. If she made too much noise, she knew Molly would wake and _insist_ she stay for breakfast with everyone else. Hermione simply wasn't in the mood after last night, and was unlikely to be able to bite her tongue this morning.

Hermione opened the cupboard to search for a simple breakfast fare. She just wanted a scone and some jam. She knew Remus and Sirius always had coffee. To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure how anyone survived without coffee. Of course, most preferred a dark tea in the morning, but not Hermione. Coffee or nothing.

She found a scone, smeared some strawberry jam across it, and quickly set about cleaning the kitchen before she left through the Floo. Hermione had to do it the Muggle way, since she still had the trace on her, so it took longer than she would have liked.

By the time she had cleaned up her mess and step foot in the flames, it was half five, but thankfully no one had woken yet. Hermione whispered, "Grimmauld Place," and was whisked off in green flames. Hermione wouldn't usually sneak out but having sat through the night previous and her nightmare this morning, she was simply not in the mood to deal with Molly Weasley.

Grimmauld was quiet when she arrived, not that she was particularly shocked to see it. Hermione walked through the house as quietly as she could, given that both men who lived here had very good hearing, and set about starting some coffee in the kitchen. Sure, she _could have_ asked Kreacher, but she did not want to have to cast detection spells on her coffee every time it refilled. He wasn't as hell-bent on calling her, "Mudblood filth," these days, since Sirius didn't appreciate the language. Best to just make it herself., though. She already knew where everything was anyway. Even Remus' hidden chocolates.

She waited for the coffee to percolate so she could get herself a large mug, and then placed a stasis charm to keep it warm and fresh while she sauntered into the library. She could continue her research after she imbibed some caffeine, the mug keeping her hands nice and warm. Grimmauld Place always seemed colder to her than it should, though that could be the dismal interior decorating. If she did manage to convince Sirius or Remus to adopt her, she would be fixing this place post haste. Or, since she spent so much time here, she may just do that regardless. All the dust was bound to make her ill at some point, and the library should not be so filthy. It was detrimental to all the books and some of these she hadn't even seen at Hogwart's, so she knew they were rather valuable. Nodding to herself, she flicked her wand and _acccioed_ a book on common house cleaning charms. Contrary to popular belief, they were not the easiest to control sometimes. It was best for a quick refresher before Hermione attempted to clean the rooms, as an incorrectly cast charm could render a dust storm, or even for the floors to be cleaned so thoroughly the rugs might become threadbare, more than they already were anyway.

She skimmed the book for a charm to rid the library of dust, and one to keep the library temperate and the humidity down. She examined the wand movements carefully, making sure she had them down correctly.

" _Purgato pulvis!"_ Hermione hissed quietly while swishing her want in a semi-spiral. It was supposed to represent the motion of actually cleaning the dust, however, if one got too enthusiastic with the wrist movement it could, and undoubtedly would, result in a dust storm. It was easy for her to see how that might have happened, now. Albeit the short sneezing fit assaulting Hermione as the dust was being pulled out of the room, the cleansing charm did its job, and the library was cleaner and already smelled much better than before.

 _"_ _Conserva tempus! Quibus aditus,"_ Hermione uttered. These two were to conserve the books and keep them impervious to damage. She'd not heard of that second spell before, though it _was_ rather useful. She decided to commit it to memory for later use. She sat down at her now, much cleaner, corner desk and copied some choice spells out of the cleaning charms book. She had half a mind to start cleaning the rest of the house as well…

Sighing, Hermione leaned to the left and right, stretching at her desk. She cast a quick _tempus_ to see it was only half seven, but she knew Remus would be awake soon. He did not sleep well these days. Too much going on and the wolf within always seemed to be on edge. She knew that either she or Remus would be forced to wake Sirius, most likely with a well-placed _auguamenti_ because the man slept like the dead. About the only thing that woke him was truly startling him awake, and it was truly best to do that from a distance.

So far, Hermione had found very little of use in her research of wand making. She knew wands were made of several components, and those components would work together with their owner to cast magic. What she could not find anywhere, was how wands were made! How were they put together? She could not find anything instructional on any of these points, and Hermione was not likely to get her idea to work without at least a rudimentary knowledge of how they worked. Honestly, the idea she had was not so far-fetched. It should not be too hard, adding enchantments to wands that would follow a set procedure should certain circumstances be met. After all, Hermione was proficient in Arithmancy, enough that Professor Vector had been allowing her in class for several years, and often Hermione was set to work on her assignments. Arithmancy was the basis of creating a new spell/charm/enchantment. It all depended on what you wanted the spell to do, and a lot of it was multiplicative of seven and its basis was intent. So, say Hermione intended to send anyone who cast an AK directly into a holding cell at the DMLE or in Azkaban itself. It's essentially a triggered Portus charm by a set of specific events. Simple, right? It would be, but Hermione could not test it, because there was something innate about wand magic that seemed resistant to the new enchantment when she had attempted to test the theory of it. She had been given some very lovely testers by Professor Vector when Hermione had explained she was interested in creating. Vector had given Hermione a test parchment, reusable, essentially allowing her to test new spells without casting them first. The test parchment would look for theoretical issues and mistakes, making sure it was _mostly_ safe to test in the real world. As far as Hermione could tell, her math was dead on, and yet the parchment declared it would be a probable disaster to put the spell into use.

Therefore she needed some additional eyes. She had been looking at this problem for so long she couldn't see what she was missing anymore. She was unable to glean what the parchment saw that she did not, and it would certainly be useful if someone else could.

Hermione pulled herself from scanning her notes once she went to take a sip of her coffee and realized her mug was empty. Trudging into the kitchen, she poured herself another cuppa and absently stirred in her sugars. It was while she was lost in thought Remus had come downstairs and entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, Hermione. You're here earlier than expected," Remus commented nudging. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well.

"I woke up early because of a nightmare and decided to sneak out. Mrs. Weasley has been driving me spare with her comments and controlling nature. My Mum and Dad were never like that," Hermione grumped.

"Well, I think Molly is likely just worried about you, Hermione. You've been through a very tough thing and she just wants to be there for you. She cares, you know?" Remus said with a slight smile.

"I know she cares, but she isn't my Mum. Why can't you or Sirius adopt me? I don't want to stay at the Burrow throughout school. It's suffocating and I can't deal with it," she said with a sigh.

"Well, I can't adopt you because I'm a werewolf, as you well know. The Ministry would never allow it. I guess you could as Sirius though. He might do it just because it would mean Harry would probably move in here, not that he doesn't care for you, too," Remus finished quickly. He didn't wish to hurt the girl's feelings.

"Oh, I know he cares. Harry would be here if not for the fact Dumbledore decided I needed to stay at the Burrow. He knows better than to leave me alone with Ron, not to mention Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said with a silent chuckle. Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley being on her case all the time was severely insulting to Hermione. Her parents hadn't ever hovered like that. Of course, they were always there if Hermione needed them, but they were never overbearing and trusted her to come to them if she needed help.

"He's a smart boy, our Harry. I guess you could ask him. There's certainly no reason why he wouldn't be willing, I don't think. Honestly having you two around might just want he needs to get himself in order, and fix this house up. I know he hates Grimmauld because of his family, but he could do so much to make sure the place didn't look like it had housed nothing but psychopaths since the beginning of time," Remus said with a chuckle.

"You're not wrong. I've thought about cleaning it up myself, simply because it's so oppressive in here. A few coats of paint would help, though removing Walburga from the wall would do ever so much to improve the space altogether," Hermione mused.

"Yes, that portrait is a menace. I'd be happy to be rid of her as well," Remus smiled.

"Coffee?" Hermione asked, pouring herself another cup.

"No thank you, I think I'll have tea today," Remus said, reaching for the kettle.

"Is Sirius awake yet?"

"Not likely, Hermione. Do you want to wake him this time?" Remus asked with a huff.

"Fine. He won't get out of bed before noon if we wait, anyway. I don't want to have to repeat this twice. It's not all that complicated, except it seems to be. You two will likely be just the people I need to help me with this issue," Hermione said proudly. She set her mug down on the table, setting a stasis charm so it would stay warm, and when in search of a snoozing Sirius Black.

She was hoping he was fully clothed this time. Once, she had drawn the short straw to go and rouse him from sleep, and the man wasn't wearing anything on top of his sheets. She had been completely mortified, had not bothered to wake him, and stomped back downstairs with a stubborn look on her face. She had forced Harry to go wake him up and told him to make sure he put on pants. Remus could only laugh, but it was rather ridiculous of Sirius to forget he was going to have guests.

Hermione took a breath as she rounded the corner in the hall, only to see the door was actually open and he was fully clothed. She took a few steps inside of his door and immediately and unapologetically dumped water on his face with the _auguamenti_ charm. Sirius sat bolt upright and reached for his wand, but Hermione had already back-peddled outside of the doorway and took cover behind the wall.

"Sirius it's time to get up!" Hermione yelled gleefully.

"MMPHF!" was the response she received from the general direction of Sirius. She took that to mean he was awake and would be down shortly. If he wasn't, she would send Remus up after him next. There was no way she was facing that mutt right now. She would wait until he was dry and had a Sober Up in him, first. Possibly, also some coffee if she felt she needed to play it safe.

Hermione half-jogged down the hall, taking the stairs quickly. She knew Sirius was quite the cranky individual in the morning, and she would likely need more coffee to deal with that. Much more coffee. Besides, it smelled as if Remus was cooking. Or perhaps Kreacher. Regardless, she was starting to get hungry, having only nibbled on bits of snatched bread from the Burrow. She knew neither Sirius or Remus functioned without food and caffeine, so she would have to wait before she could speak to them about her research issues anyway.

She walked into the kitchen to find Remus being reprimanded to the table by a very annoyed Kreacher. He did not appreciate anyone else touching his kitchen. With a stern pointing finger, an amused Remus sidled to his chair and took a seat, letting Kreacher take over his breakfast duties with aplomb.

"Missy Hermione wants breakfast?" Kreacher addressed her, with a scowl, but at least he wasn't calling her Mudblood anymore.

"Yes, please Kreacher. That would be lovely," Hermione replied with a smile. She sat opposite Remus and sipped on her coffee, waiting for the entry of a cranky Sirius and a breakfast that would unlikely be poisoned from Kreacher. _"Thankfully, Remus has a superior sense of smell,´_ Hermione thought wryly.

By the time Hermione had gotten halfway through her coffee Kreacher had set eggs, toast, and rashers in front of her. It smelled good, and Remus was already tucking in, so she figured her paranoia was rather uncalled for and followed suit. It was delicious, and not two seconds after Kreacher had sat down a plate for Sirius, he sauntered in and sat down in front of it without uttering a single sound. Shortly thereafter, coffee was placed in front of him, and he drank it down. Roughly ten minutes later, Hermione felt as if it was safe to speak to him. Possibly.

"Sirius?" Hermione ventured.

"Yes. I'm fit to be spoken to. Barely. Seconds sooner and I might have bitten you," Sirius deadpanned.

"Wouldn't have let you," Remus smirked.

"Stupid wolf reflexes," Sirius mumbled.

"Get over it, Padfoot. You'd be happy I stopped you from biting Hermione anyway. If you succeeded she'd hurt you worse than me, anyway," Remus grinned.

"This," Hermione grinned, "is true. Are you ready to delve into the consequences of the brainchild I had?"

"Will it take long?"

"Likely all day."

"Oh well, lovely. Let's get to it then."

Hermione grinned and got up to make her way into the library. She was hopeful one of them had an idea, because she was out of them. She looked over her shoulder to see Remus and Sirius following her. Once they'd settled around her desk, Remus and Sirius pulling up chairs next to her, she began her spiel, pointing to her notes and research where necessary.

"Alright, I had this crazy idea one night. The more I got to thinking about it, the more I thought it may be a possibility. I was puzzling about the Unforgivables. _Why_ can't we simply put a trace on wands that tracks the usage of them? Why couldn't we track down the wizards who used them immediately, or maybe instead of finding their victims, the use of one of them could cause a different reaction. For example, what if the person casting an Avada was sent immediately to a holding cell in Azkaban, instead of the spell firing? What if no one ever had to die because of an Unforgivable again? What if they no longer worked, but no longer worked in a way that ensured rumors about how the spells themselves were behaving would never be heard?" Hermione's eyes were alight. She was smiling at the mere idea of making the Unforgivable curses unusable.

"Well, that sounds rather amazing, but how do you plan to make the wands listen to an order that isn't from their master?" This, of course, came from Remus. He understood the Dark Arts, and he was adept at fighting them.

"That is where I'm having a problem. I have a general idea of how to do it. It's a modified portkey with keywords, which I feel I can puzzle out quickly enough. I can't seem to figure out how to make the wands listen to command, though. Do you have any ideas?"

"Well, unfortunately, Hermione the only thing we know about wand making is the main information you can hear about compatibilities between the components. The art of how wands are constructed is well guarded. Wand makers hold tightly to their traditions. These are family secrets which have been passed down for generations," supplied Sirius. "You could ask Ollivander but I don't know if he would be willing to share these details with you. Even if what you're doing is rather amazing, he may not be."

"Really? I guess that would make a lot of sense. I was trying it on my wand, just to see what might happen, but I can't tell if the spell took because it took, or if my wand was just obeying me. I stole an idea from Muggles, you see they have these testing strips to test, well it doesn't matter, but I liked the idea so I created a sort of testing strip for my spells, to see if they would work. I can't get a clear read on my wand, though the spell itself tests as if it should be fine… It would make sense if the wands themselves were spelled to resist enchantments, then my wand would just be obeying me not wanting to cast the spell, right?" Hermione's eyes glazed over slightly, and Remus and Sirius shared a bemused look. It was the face she always made when she was lost in thought.

"Hermione, would you like to try and speak with Ollivander?" Remus gently nudged, and he could see her eyes snap back into focus.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. That would be great. Even if he will not tell me anything at least I can figure out another way to take this idea. Maybe adapting the enchantment so that it could be cast by those not wishing for their wands to be used for such things, you know, in case they are dropped or stolen? Do you think we could go to Diagon?" she asked excitedly. There was a sparkle in her eyes she had not had since her parents died. Yes, they could definitely take her to Diagon. A small price to pay.

Remus and Sirius cracked nearly identical grins. "Oh, yes, I think we can manage that. Are you ready to go now?"

"Well of course I am. Can we go?"

Sirius simply motioned to the Floo, and Hermione walked by it and waited. Remus grabbed some purple powder, tossed it into the flames, and yelled, "DIAGON ALLEY!" One by one, the other two were whisked away, licked in the green flames, to arrive in a public arrival grate at Diagon Alley.

Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as busy as it could have been. School letters hadn't yet gone out and the shops weren't swarmed. Hermione, flanked by Remus and Sirius, chattered at them about the ideas she'd had and kept thanking them profusely for taking the time to escort her because of course she could have come alone but she really didn't feel like it after everything that had happened, and just, thank you. Sirius and Remus just told her to stop already, really it wasn't that big a deal and her idea was really interesting and it didn't cost them anything to take her to Diagon for a couple of minutes and maybe they'd get some ice cream while they were here. Hermione smiled and said that seemed wonderful.

Ollivander's wand shop was nestled into a line of shops, and it was rarely busy unless it was time for new first-years to get their wands. They walked into the shop, walls stacked high with long boxes in a myriad of different colors, and a bell dinged. In a short few seconds, Ollivander swept up to the front of the shop, a smile on his face.

"My my, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black, and Miss Hermione Granger. How may I be of assistance today? You all aren't in need of new wands, are you? I should hope you've done a better job of taking care of them than that!"

"Hello Garrick, how are you?"

"Oh quite well. And you all?"

"We're alright, sir. We came because Hermione here has a very fun and interesting question she would like to ask you," Remus said politely.

"Oh? Well, have at it then, Miss Granger! I'm an open book!"

"Alright, well, Mr. Ollivander I've had this idea. I think I can make the Unforgivable Curses, rather, well rather unusable, but I would need to have an understanding of how wands work, because I can't force the enchantment to take on a wand without knowing how they are put together. So, I suppose my main question is, would that even be possible?"

Garrick Ollivander's mouth dropped open, just a little bit. His wiry, white, curly hair was quickly pushed back from his face. He can't say this was a question he had particularly been expecting, though he did have to admit it was a rather interesting concept to pursue. Hermione Granger did not think like other witches or wizards, of that much, he was quite certain. Ollivander pulled his jaw closed as he pondered the best way to answer this question. He knew that it would be feasible, if she knew the actual wand working charms and how to recognize their attributes and undertones. He knew that technically this was a possible boon to all Wizarding kind, but there was certain information he could simply not divulge to anyone who wasn't family. He couldn't tell her certain things or the family bond would very will end him where he stood. There was a reason no one outside of a wandmaker knew how wands worked. It was a standard in the family that if you chose to go into the family business, you took an Unbreakable Vow.

"Mr. Ollivander?" Hermione prompted quizzically.

"I'm thinking," he said somewhat distractedly.

"Ah, I think I see. Hermione, remember how we told you that wand-making was a closely guarded family secret?" asked Sirius. Hermione's eyes widened and she nodded in affirmation.

"I believe Mr. Ollivander is trying to figure out how to answer your question, without answering it too much," filled in Remus.

"Well, I can certainly be patient," she opined with a smile. She decided to walk around a bit as she waited, looking around at some of the samples Ollivander had sitting in the open.

"Miss Granger, all I can say is your idea would not be impossible with the correct information. Information you simply will not have, without being adopted into the family and taught the art of wand making. As you certainly have your own family, I don't see this as being a possibility, and without that caveat being met I am afraid I cannot be of any further assistance," Ollivander said, a little sadly. He didn't have an heir. He could certainly use one, and the Granger girl had always been so very bright and kind.

Remus, Sirius, and Hermione all shared a glance. A telling glance, and Hermione's eyes looked a little sadder than Garrick Ollivander thought they should at the confirmation that he couldn't tell her anything of use. That was interesting. Very interesting.

"Actually," Remus stated quietly, "Hermione is rather parentless, and in need of a home." He looked to Hermione before continuing, making sure she was okay with what he was saying. With a slight nod from her, he continued. "If she would wish it, we could come to some sort of arrangement? Sirius and I would act in her interests, of course."

"Well then, it seems this conversation is able to continue. Tea, anyone?" Garrick Ollivander, without further preamble, flicked his hand to close up the shop, turned on his heel, and walked straight back where he came from clearly intending for them to follow.

"This is not how I was expecting for this to go," Sirius started slowly, " but it could certainly be worse." He looked at Hermione.

"Honestly, if it keeps me out of the Burrow and allows me freedom, it would be lovely. I just don't want contact with my friends and what family I have left to fall by the wayside," Hermione replied, equally shocked. "What is the catch?"

"It's our job to make sure there isn't one," Remus replied, making to follow Ollivander to the back of the shop. Shrugging, Hermione followed suit. She would object loudly if she disagreed, of course.


	4. Family Bonds

Ollivander took them to a small sitting room. It was evident not many people aside from Ollivander had been back here in quite some time, but the area was a clean, but cramped tea parlor. There were endless columns of stacked wand boxes lining the walls here, as well.

Not really how I saw this day going, but it seems a good solution, Hermione thought to herself. From the sheer amount of boxes lining the walls, Hermione didn't think it likely Ollivander had much of a life outside of his shop and work. Hermione could understand that, considering she'd always been studious. It had always been a bit of a shock to her that the Sorting Hat had put her into Gryffindor, but she was glad for Harry and Ron now.

Ollivander set about quickly setting up a tea service for the four of them. Seemingly he kept treats on hand. Perhaps he used this area for consultations, but Hermione found she enjoyed the scent of the tea wafting in her direction. She would be glad for something to do with her hands.

"Well, I'm very sorry to hear about your parents, Miss Granger. I did not mean to cause you pain," Ollivander apologized. Hermione hadn't thought he'd meant anything by the comments. Her parents were Muggles, after all. Most Wizarding folk did not keep track of Muggles, and she certainly hadn't been expecting Ollivander to. His eyes were warm.

"I didn't think you had meant to be cruel, Mr. Ollivander. My parents were not important in the Wizarding World, and that's okay." Hermione replied evenly.

"Regardless, I appreciate your understanding," Ollivander said, turning around with the kettle warmed, and levitating the cups and like to the table. Sirius, Remus, and Hermione all took a seat at the table, waiting for Ollivander to sit as well.

"Well, I'm not sure where to start, as I'm not sure what you're aware of in regards to magical adoption," Ollivander opened, after having settled. He gestured his guests to help themselves to the sugar and cream, as he poured for them.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look with Hermione, which she interpreted as the go-ahead to be herself. "Well, I know that magical adoption is rare as most heirs are valuable. From my understanding, magical bloodlines are of great importance because there are families like yours who are adept at certain skills, or there are families like Nott's and Malfoy's who have their sorts of imports. These things are passed down through the family lines, so unless a family is unable to conceive, or a child loses their parents and does not have appointed living godparents', it seldom happens. I do know that magical adaption changes your magical signature, association you with the bloodline you've been adopted into…" Looking up from her tea, she could see all three gentlemen looking at her with mild amusement, nevertheless, she persisted. "So, in my case, it would mean I would be a Pureblood, magically, even though my blood itself is decidedly not from one of the magical and ancient bloodlines. I realize this could also change some of my physical attributes, seeing as how magic tends to do as it likes. I must confess, that's about the extent of what I've researched to date, seeing as how it was never really a concern for me previously."

"Well, you're astute as ever," Sirius remarked. His eyes were sad, but she could also see the pride in them. "That's the general gist of it all. The adoption is generally overseen by a lawyer or other familiar person to ensure the needs of the child are considered. Remus and I would be happy to do that for you. We've looked into this for Harry, so we know a little bit about it." Hermione looked from Sirius to Remus, nodding slightly in affirmation. She knew they cared about her well-being.

"I would be okay with that," Hermione replied, tears in her eyes.

"Well, aside from Hermione being willing to go into the family business, I really can't say I have stipulations," Ollivander said immediately. "You're too brilliant, Hermione. You'll likely take to wand making just fine, and if this idea of yours works, I would wager you might do more than just that."

"Would you mind terribly if I hyphenated my last name? Granger-Ollivander? I can't, I won't give up my name. It's the last thing I have of them," she said decidedly.

"Of course not," Ollivander said kindly. "I'm not trying to take place of your parents, Hermione. I want you to continue living your life as you are. The only exception being you'd learn the family trade."

Remus, always one to consider the options, "Where would she live? Would she be able to visit us and the Weasley's as she usually does?"

"Absolutely. Again, I don't want to rearrange her life, just have an heir."

"Well, what do we do now?" Hermione posed, humming in her appreciation as she sipped her tea.

"I can contact a solicitor, get some paperwork drawn up. All it takes is a signed agreement between you and me, some wand-waving, and you're an Ollivander. I can have the paperwork sent over to these two if that would be preferable?" Ollivander stated easily.

"I think that would be best, because we are going to have to tell Molly Weasley, and I would much rather not until after the paperwork is signed," opined Sirius with a grin. He was right, though. Hermione was not looking forward to that either.

"Oh. Oh no. Yes please, send all relevant information to Sirius and Remus. I spend most of my time with them, anyway. Mrs. Weasley is not going to take this well," replied Hermione, looking somewhat green around the edges.

Ollivander grimaced in sympathy, "No, I do not envy you that conversation, either. That woman has always had an explosive temper."

"You do realize, by adopting me, you're bringing down the wrath of Molly Weasley on yourself, correct?" Hermione asked, hesitantly. She felt it only fair to point that out to the wizard who was soon to be her family, even if she feared he may turn her away because of it.

"She'll get over it, eventually…" Ollivander blanched. "Alright then. I'll send the documents over in a few days and we can get you settled into Ollivander Herrenhaus. Yes, it's still in Britain, though my roots are Germanic."

Hermione held her hand out to Ollivander, who politely took it. "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Ollivander," she said with a smile. Ollivander had not pitied her. He had been warm, but not overly affectionate. It seemed a good solution for them both, and Hermione was genuinely interested in learning more about wand making.

"The feeling is mutual, Miss Granger," Ollivander said with a smile. "Becoming your Familienvorstand, meaning head of the family, is something I will take great pride in. I've no urge to rush things, but once you've been bound to the family, you'll feel a familial bond. Regardless, you can call me Mr. Ollivander, Garrick, Vater, Papa, or whatever you're comfortable with whenever you are comfortable with it, alright?"

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She had not realized this had been a thought in the back of her mind, but she felt relieved, nonetheless. "Please call me Hermione, Mr. Ollivander. At the very least we're at that point. I'll stick to calling you Mr. Ollivander for awhile yet. My German is awful."

Ollivander smiled humorously, clasped hands with Remus and Sirius, and walked the trio out of the back room. "I'll look forward to your owl," Remus said to Ollivander. Back out in the sunshine in Diagon Alley, the three of them seemed to feel somewhat at ease with the situation, Molly Weasley notwithstanding.

"I think I want some ice cream," Sirius commented. He linked his arm through Hermione's, and threw his other arm around Remus, leading them down the way to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Nothing much could put a damper on Sirius' sweet tooth.

Hermione enjoyed the ice cream and the afternoon out with Remus and Sirius, immensely. It was nice to have a chance to relax for a change, without Molly shaming her for not grieving appropriately, or without Ron looking at her with that face, like he was determined to keep her around.

Remus had ordered double chocolate ice cream, while Sirius requested strawberry. Hermione had decided she wanted a mint chocolate chip. They sat out on the veranda with their ice cream cones chattering about nothing in particular. At one point, Sirius had ended up with ice cream on the tip of his nose, and Hermione watched with a bemused expression as Remus wipe it off with his thumb. After they had finished their treats, they went back to Grimmauld Place, walking at a leisurely pace.

When they walked into the house, Hermione wasn't too surprised to see Harry sitting in an armchair in the living area. He would often split his time between here and the Burrow, needing a reprieve from the chaos from time to time as well.

"Ah, I see you three have been off in search of sugar again, without me," Harry intoned with mock irritation, as smile on his face.

"Had you been awake this morning, you could have come," Hermione teased back.

"Most people don't get up at the crack of dawn on their holiday," Harry grinned. "Mrs. Weasley was very irritated this morning to wake up and find you already gone."

"Yes, well, she is not my keeper," Hermione said bitterly.

Throwing his hands up in surrender, Harry sauntered over to hug Sirius. "What have you three been up to?"

Hermione, Sirius, and Remus exchanged a glance, but Hermione knew there was no reason to keep a secret. He was going to know sooner rather than later, and Hermione did not like keeping secrets from her best friend. "Well, in the process of discussing my research, we ended up going to see Ollivander. Ollivander couldn't tell me much of anything because of his familial obligations," Harry's face dropped slightly at the confession, "but he said if he could adopt me, he could help me more. So, we spoke about it and he should be sending official paperwork over within the next few days to make the transition official."

Hermione watched Harry's face as she spoke, watching his countenance morph from dejection, to joy, to apprehension in quick succession. Hermione waited, knowing Harry would take moment to process before voicing his concerns and asking his questions.

"Okay, so you're going to be adopted by Ollivander, the wandmaker? Does that mean you'll be living there? Are you going to be Hermione Ollivander, now? Are we still going to be able to see you over the holidays? Wait, he's not going to do something crazy like transfer you to Durmstrang, is he?" Harry's eyes had panic seeping into them at the thought. Remus couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape at the barrage of questions, and Sirius grinned.

"Yes, I'm going to be magically adopted by Garrick Ollivander, wandmaker. I'll likely be living at the Ollivander home, but honestly, Harry, that's to be expected, isn't it? I already spoke to him on the matter of my family name and I believe I'm going to opt for Hermione Granger-Ollivander. Admittedly I didn't need a longer name, but I refuse to let the surname of my family fade into obscurity. You'll still see me over the holidays as per usual. Ollivander isn't interested in uprooting and changing my life completely. He knows who I am, and who I am to you. And no, he will not be sending me to Durmstrang. I believe that decision would be counterproductive to both of our aims. He needs an heir to teach his family secrets of wand making, and I need the knowledge he can impart to me. This means that I'll be learning how to make wands just like his family has made for years, and eventually, I will be inheriting the wand shop. Aside from that, not much is going to change. We already discussed it," Hermione answered with a small smile. She wasn't particularly ready for a new family, but she knew her late Mum and Dad wouldn't want her to be alone. She knew they would prefer her to be safe and happy, so she was going to do her best to be exactly that in this situation. Hermione was nothing if not talented at making the best out of any situation she found herself in. The only way out is through.

Harry smiled, and she knew everything would be okay. She wasn't sure why she was feeling so much anxiety at telling Harry about everything, but she was. Hermione had never been the most social girl. She liked her books and she liked to lose herself in them. Harry had become the best friend she had ever had, and she supposed she feared losing him more than ever, now that her parents were gone. Harry hadn't always been the most level headed, and sometimes he had a tendency to explode first, and apologize later. Luckily, in the past few years, he had stopped doing that as much, and Ron had taken up the mantle King of Prats when it came to his temper. This is why Hermione quickly added, "Do NOT tell Molly, or Ron, or Ginny. Tell no one else. I want to be adopted before I tell the Weasley's because honestly, I know Mrs. Weasley is going to lose her mind about this and I'm honestly not willing to put up with it over the next few days. I want the adoption to be finalized first, so she can't try to "intercede" on my behalf. Not to mention Ronald and his temper..."

Harry looked at her, horror painted across his features, "Hell, Hermione. I know better than that. Mrs. Weasley loves you but I can tell she's been smothering you. I know better than anyone else how likely she is to try something crazy, like file an injunction with the Ministry. She would likely say it was happening too fast and you needed a proper mother or something," he trailed off.

Hermione smiled at him, glad that he understood. "I know. I love her too, but she's been too close lately. I lost my parents, that doesn't mean I'm going to wither and die. I can't deal with her right now, and I'm not able to stay comfortable at the Burrow for long. I'll be upset at not seeing you every day, but this also means you could move into Grimmauld with Sirius. You won't have to stay there for me, anymore."

Harry hadn't considered that angle. She was right. He could move in with Sirius and Remus, and then visit the Burrow when he felt like it. He, like Hermione, had spent most of his childhood in quiet contemplation. Granted, the Dursley's were abusing him all those years, but he wasn't anymore used to the chaos of the Burrow than Hermione was. He tolerated it better, likely because Dudley was such a boisterous prat, but he certainly didn't enjoy it. And Ginny had been staring a lot more than he was comfortable with.

Harry cracked the largest grin she'd seen from him in a while, "You're right! I didn't mind staying for you Hermione, but it will be nice to be here with Sirius and Remus."

Hermione looked at him softly, knowing full well if she had people in her life who were magical, who had known and loved her parents, that's where she would prefer to be as well. She couldn't blame him one little bit, and one look at Remus and Sirius made her all the happier about it.

"I will be here, often. I'm not giving up that library for anything," Hermione said teasingly.

"Oh, like we could be rid of you! I'm sure it won't be an issue to get the Floo's connected. Dumbledore can probably do it on the sly for us," Sirius said happily. He wouldn't want to deprive Hermione of anything, and he certainly wouldn't deprive his godson of his time with her. Hermione and Harry were so akin to how he and Lily had been when they were younger. Best of friends, but more like family.

Hermione flipped her hair haughtily, "Obviously not. You'll need me around to make sure this place isn't a completely tragic mess. Honestly Sirius, Remus, you lot need to do better. I had to renew all the charms in the library so the books don't simply rot from dust."

"Oi! Don't start on me Hermione! I've been after this dog to clean this place up since I moved in!"

"Well, I guess I have no choice if I'm going to have my favorite godson moving in, am I? Especially not with this swot reprimanding me about the state of my library," Sirius jumped in sardonically.

Hermione jumped up, shocking the three wizards. "Good, we can get started right now. Honestly, this place is a complete mess, and I know you can get those elves' effigies off the walls. You're Marauders, don't tell me there isn't an alternative to burning the place down," she said with a grin.

Hermione hadn't felt this light in a while. She still missed her parents. They'd only been gone a month, but, she also knew she would have to move forward with her life in whatever way she could. This, though an arduous task, would do to keep her mind busy while she waited for the paperwork. Besides, the place was still so insanely dust-covered she was shocked none of them had developed an allergy yet.

"Fine, but it's nearly lunch, and I demand to be fed before manual labor," Sirius teased.

"I second that," chipped in Remus.

"Honestly I just played Quidditch for about four hours, I could eat a Hippogriff," snarked Harry.

Hermione grinned at her compatriots and simply walked to the kitchens in search of Kreacher. She could make them all lunch if he wasn't available. She had done it before. Swinging the kitchen door wide, Hermione saw Kreacher was already at making a lunch for them.

"Oh, thank you, Kreacher. I was just coming to ask you for lunch for us," Hermione said with a gentle smile.

"Missy Ollivander doesn't need to thank Kreacher. Kreacher is happy to do it."

"How did you know? I haven't even signed the paperwork yet!"

"Kreacher can see the bonds, Missy Ollivander."

Hermione's nose scrunched, trying to remember what she had read about bonds, and was drawing a blank. She knew she had come across them at some point, but she was sure there would be some more information on them in the library she could find.

"Ah. Well, yes thank you Kreacher. I'll tell everyone else," Hermione said politely, leaving the room behind. Hermione wasn't sure how a bond could already exist when she hadn't signed anything making it official, but upon seeing Remus whooping Harry at a game of Wizard's Chess, Hermione put the thought from her mind for the moment. She could check it out later.

* * *

After lunch, they set to work. Grimmauld looked like a complete and utter pile of wood from the outside, but honestly, the bones of the house were still quite good. It would take some sprucing up and careful removal of probably cursed items, but Hermione had no doubt this place could be made livable within a few weeks. She had remembered coming across a book with cleaning charms in them and immediately sought it out in the library. She knew the removal of Walburga's portrait was going to be harder, but she could surely figure that out later. Instead, she renewed the sticking charm on the curtains as she passed by the stairs, unwilling to listen to the seething woman spew out her prejudice and vitriol. Hermione may have been called a Mudblood more times than she could count, but that didn't make it sting less. She just got better at hiding it. Upon re-entering the kitchen Sirius, Remus, and Harry looked to her for direction, as apparently none of them had cleaned in their lives. Hermione rolled her eyes but softened it with a smile.

"How about we start with the main living areas and bedrooms? That way at least the other rooms can be done as needed and after the main areas are set to rights?" As soon as Hermione had finished speaking, Kreacher popped in next to them and immediately set to cleaning the kitchen. He was still Kreacher. His long nose and ears drooping. He was an old elf, but he always looked older than any elf Hermione had ever seen before.

Sirius gaped at Kreacher, not knowing what was happening. The elf had never really liked him, always preferring his younger brother Regulus to Sirius, and he never had lifted a finger without specific orders from Sirius since he'd come back to Grimmauld.

"Kreacher, what are you doing?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"Master wants the house clean. Kreacher is doing the cleaning," he stated matter-of-factly.

Sirius, looking puzzled, tried again, "Kreacher, why are you cleaning now? We've been here for months and you've not wanted to help clean."

"Master hated the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, so Kreacher did not want to help him. Master has changed his thinking, he has, and Kreacher likes this. Kreacher will be doing the cleanings. Kreacher has called his cousins to help," Kreacher said simply, and without ire. Typically Kreacher would call Sirius something like, "Ungrateful Master, Stain on the house of Black," but something had shifted with the elf.

"Kreacher," Hermione tried, "is this to do with the bonds, like you said before?"

"Yes, Missy Ollivander. You is smart,' Kreacher said simply.

Not knowing what else to say, Sirius shrugged. Remus looked thoughtful, and Harry looked completely taken aback at this development. Not seeing any reason to correct him, Hermione prodded, "Okay Kreacher, is there anything we can do to assist you and your cousins?" She knew the elves generally wanted to be left alone to do their work, but she couldn't help but ask.

"No needing, Missy Ollivander. Winky, Gilly, Dobby, and Kreacher will be doing's it. Though Kreacher would not be unhappy with a place to sleep that is Kreacher's own…" Kreacher trailed off.

Harry started at the name of Dobby, not knowing the house-elf was related to Kreacher in any way. Dobby had gotten Harry into a fair bit of trouble a time or two, but it was apparently because he wanted to serve 'The Great Harry Potter," even if the elf had bungled his attempts,

"I think we can make those arrangements, though I thought you enjoyed sleeping in the cupboard," Sirius said, seriously.

"No, Master Black. Kreacher is sleeping there because Lady Black is bidding Kreacher to before she died," Kreacher said, not looking at anyone.

"Kreacher, I didn't know that. Please find yourself someplace suitable to sleep," Sirius said without preamble. "There is plenty of space in this house."

Kreacher nodded and continued his work in silence. Taking that to be a dismissal from the elf, Sirius motioned the rest of them out of the kitchen with a slight jerk of his head and widening of his eyes.

As they followed Sirius to the main sitting room, the heard three nearly inaudible cracks of apparition. Standing in the sitting room stood three elves. Harry immediately recognized Dobby and gave him a slight not and smile. Hermione had seen Winky around Hogwart's once or twice, though she couldn't place Gilly at all.

"We is looking for Kreacher, Masters, and Missy," said Winky.

"He's just through there in the kitchen," replied Sirius, somewhat startled. He knew house elves had always been able to get to places that wizards couldn't, but his house was unplottable and it disturbed him he could be so easily found if someone decided to ask their elf.

"Thank you, Master Black," said Dobby. Dobby seemed to be all business up until he passed by Harry, following the other house-elves to the kitchen. Dobby abruptly stopped next to him and, without warning, burst into tears.

Sighing, Harry bent over and patted the elf gently on the back. Dobby just kept thanking Harry for setting him free, on a loop of sorts, until Winky had enough and dragged him by his ears into the kitchen to start the cleaning. Winky looked exasperated as if she had to wrangle Dobby often. Harry shot her a grateful glance, as the elves disappeared to find Kreacher.

"Well, this is interesting," Remus supplied.

"That's a bit of an understatement, mate," Sirius barked with a slight smile.

"Do either of you know about bonds?" Hermione asked, looking from Remus to Sirius. She knew they likely knew something, at least more than her. Even if Sirius wanted none of the pomp and circumstance, he was a pureblood. He knew things Hermione had never been taught, simply because she wasn't born into the magical world. It was something she disliked about the way Muggle-born children were assimilated into magic, but it wasn't something she could change currently.

"Well, I know there are several types. Kreacher is bonded to me, as house-elves are usually bonded to the eldest in the line of an ancestral home. I'm not sure why his attitude changed so quickly though," Sirius pondered.

"Could it be, perhaps, Kreacher can feel your disdain for this house through your bond? Maybe because you had decided to clean it, he decided to clean it?" Harry asked.

Remus thought on this a moment before saying, "You know, that would make a lot of sense. You've never liked this house Sirius, but having a reason to clean it up and take care of it now, maybe Kreacher can tell your feelings have changed? Bonds aren't exactly a science and as much as I know about them, which is just basic knowledge mind you, they can differ from person to person…" he mused.

"Well, I guess I can't distract myself with cleaning now, but do you all want to help me look into this bond situation? I'm a little worried that Kreacher is already calling me Ollivander. Though, I find I am really glad the Weasley's don't have an elf…." Hermione commented.

"I guess it couldn't hurt. As much as I loathe reading on my break this is rather interesting," Harry chipped in.

The next several afternoon hours were lost to the research of bonds, and note-taking on Hermione's part. Before they had realized it, it was almost six o'clock, and time for dinner. Hermione's alarm on her wand had chimed to alert her.

Hermione had learned there were many different sorts of bonds. There were bonds of servitude, such as between an owner and a house-elf. Familial bonds were bonds that existed between family members and existed at birth. There were provoked bonds, which is what Hermione suspected had altered her state to the elves, because she had provoked a familial bond with Ollivander when they discussed her adoption. There were marriage bonds, which were normal and any married witch or wizard had, and then there were many stranger bonds. There was a soul bond, which, unsurprisingly represented the Muggle concept of soul mates. There were pack bonds, like werewolves shared. Hermione knew she was going to need to do much more research to sate her curiosity on this subject, but the gist of what she had read was that a bond was provoked with the intent of becoming something to someone else. Provoking a bond was easy, but sealing them was not so easy. She guessed this was what Ollivander had been referencing when it came to the adoption, as well.

Pulling herself from what she often referred to as her "research stupor" she dragged her eyes up from her book to see Harry do much the same, glancing at her wand. Remus and Sirius were across the library, seated at a table together pouring their eyes over a document. Noticing Hermione and Harry had decided to take a break, Sirius and Remus waved them both over.

"Ollivander sent over the adoption paperwork. It all looks relatively simple. There aren't any clauses in here about servitude or submitting to a certain way of life, and yes we read it three times over with a fine-tooth comb, Hermione. The only thing which is stipulated here is that you will do your best to learn the art of wand making and will take over the Ollivander Wand Shop after you come of age, and Ollivander has decided to step aside. He left the name blank, so you can fill it in yourself. There's no reason not to sign it," Remus filled her in. Hermione cast a quick tempus charm, seeing it stated quarter past six. Holding her hand out for the contract, she did a quick scan. The document itself was a fair bit shorter than anticipated.

_**Contract for Magical Adoption** _

_**Of Hermione Granger into the House Ollivander** _

_**This contract, forthwith, is proof of agreement and consent for Hermione Jean Granger to be adopted into the Ollivander bloodline on this date of July 23rd, 1994. The signing of this contract ensures the signee is a properly adopted child of Garrick Ollivander, who will then become heir to the Ollivander estate. Conditions of inheritance of the estate are solely that, upon Garrick Ollivander deeming the adoptee is capable and ready, they will continue the family business of wand making, and run Ollivander's Wand Shop, currently located in Diagon Alley. The above appointed will be required to take an Unbreakable Vow to guard the secrets of the Ollivander family trade, as has been done for generations. These are the only conditions for the adoption of Miss/Mister _ {insert desired adopted name here}.** _

_**Upon the signing and returning of this document, the adoptee will be contacted by Mr. Garrick Ollivander with a date and time to meet at the Ministry of Magic to have the familial bonding overseen by a Ministry official, at which time the adoption will be complete and final.** _

Mr. Ollivander had signed below the last paragraph, and there was a line indicating a spot for Hermione to sign her name as well. "Well, that's rather simple, isn't it?" Hermione chirped. "I'm shocked they don't require a guardian's signature, but I suppose that's just as well considering I don't legally have one. Hermione grabbed a quill and filled out Hermione Jean Granger-Ollivander on the blank space, and signed the bottom line with little preamble.

"Would you mind sending this back, and then meeting us for dinner at the Burrow?" Hermione asked, looking between Sirius and Remus.

"Not at all. We'll see you both shortly, yeah? Knowing Garrick, it won't be long until the bonding is complete and then we can tell everyone," soothed Sirius.

She wasn't sure how he knew Hermione was a bit nervous about hiding this from the Weasley clan, but Sirius always seemed to know. Hermione smiled at him in thanks, before turning to Harry, "Ready to get to dinner?"

Harry threw his arm around Hermione's shoulders and they walked to the Floo in tandem. With a toss of some powder, and hollered destination, they were gone to the Burrow.

"How long do you think it'll take Molly to sniff out something is different?" asked Sirius.

"Not very long at all. Let's get this sent off and get over to the Burrow before Hermione loses her temper," Remus said with a chuckle. He knew what the witch was capable of. He had seen her study, seen her practice her magic. He had taught the witch. He knew she was nothing short of a force to be reckoned with, and if she and Molly lost their tempers simultaneously, the Burrow may not last the night. Sirius nodded with a slight grimace, grabbing Remus' hand and squeezing before going about his appointed task.


	5. Open Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione loses her temper, and Harry makes some decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shuffles over and throws chapter at you*
> 
> *Yells: SURPRISE!*
> 
> *Fades into the shadows to start working on the next one*

Hermione and Harry stepped out of the Floo in tandem, both excited and anxious for different reasons. Hermione, to leave the Burrow and to be free of Mrs. Weasley's oppressive smothering. Harry, to finally move in with his godfather, and of Mrs. Weasley's inevitable wrath. Harry was accepted into the Weasley family in a way Hermione had not been. He knew she did not resent him for it, but she deserved a home as much as anyone, and hers was gone. The Burrow would never be a place of sanctuary for her, and she deserved that. Hermione loved the Weasley's, but she loved them in smaller doses than living there full time, and Mrs. Weasley had been just as overbearing to her as she had to Ginny, and far be it from Harry to judge her for wanting to escape. They shared an anxious smile and set forth to the kitchen. Apprehension had stiffened Hermione to the point she nearly vibrated, but soon she would be through, what she was assumed would be, a rather unpleasant experience, and onto finding a new life for herself.

Hermione Granger was a witch who felt and loved with all her heart. She was determined, brave, intelligent, and wise. She was kind, she was fierce, and she was independent. Hermione Granger had been brought up as a Muggle child and thrust into a society which was none like her own. Hermione did not need someone to hover over her, and she had not for some time. Molly Weasley hovered, and she did not allow for growth, speculation, or really, freedom, in the way Hermione had always experienced in her life. She knew being adopted would likely insult Molly Weasley's sense of ownership, but she was not her child, and she was not going to stay to be fretted over and smothered until she snapped. She needed a place that was her own, and Ollivander did not want to temper her curiosity. He wanted to teach her.

Hermione simply found that a preferable attitude. She was self-reliant and had become such the moment she set foot in Wizarding Britain, she did not need a mother hen, she needed a guide.

She reflected on these thoughts as she made her way into the kitchen at the Burrow, knowing she didn't need to tell the Weasley matriarch yet, but that she could soon. Hermione was no fool, she knew Ronald would be upset, and she felt awful leaving Ginny here to her own devices…but Hermione's path was her own and she was willing to forge ahead through the hard time she knew was coming. It would not be the first time she and Ronald had a spat, nor was it likely to be the last. She would weather the storms ahead because she knew Harry needed her and he was her family. Though Ronald would likely always be around, she didn't feel for him as she did Harry. Perhaps it was their shared upbringing as Muggles, feeling separate, different, and altogether other. She would do what he needed her to, and she would do it with or without the help of Molly or Ronald Weasley. She's the one who had ensured Sirius was cleared, for goodness's sake, when no adult would bother to fight for his freedom. Hermione knew Harry needed his Godfather, and she and given him what he needed.

Hermione was also sure that Dumbledore would have something to say about her decision, but really, she didn't care all too much. Dumbledore had been using Harry, a child, as a means to defeat an evil wizard, which honestly irked her beyond belief. She believed Harry when he said he'd been dreaming. She believed Harry when he said he was coming back, but she was determined to do things her own way. After witnessing the treatment of both Harry and Remus by Dumbledore, she had decided to never be in that man's clutches any more than Voldemort's. No. She would find another way to do things.

The Burrow smelled wonderful, as per usual. Mrs. Weasley could certainly cook. That may really be the only thing she missed about living here. Hermione followed Harry into the kitchen and stopped short. The kitchen was full. Molly, Arthur, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Harry, Fred, George…and the very same man who had occupied her thoughts moments before. Dumbledore sat next to Arthur.

Hermione should have known the man would find out quickly. He had eyes and ears everywhere and she should have known he would attempt to interfere. Hermione smiled at everyone as took a seat next to Harry, who had taken the one next to Ginny leaving one open on the other side of him. Hermione hoped Remus and Sirius didn't take their time. She cast a smile at everyone and said hello, not intending to bring up her adoption until Dumbledore confronted her about it.

"Missed you at breakfast this morning, Hermione," commented an irritated Molly Weasley. Her face was flush and lips pursed in disapproval.

"Yes, well I was up exceedingly early and thought I would get some more research done. Besides, someone had to feed Sirius and Remus," she replied coolly. She refused to bend to the woman.

Though She didn't wish to be rude, she neither wished to be under the thumb of Molly Weasley. "Had you bothered to wait, I think Bill would have gone with you."

"Bill is perfectly capable of Flooing on his own," Hermione retorted.

"Find anything new?" asked Fred. Hermione assume he was trying to pull her focus from his mother, but she truly didn't mind.

"Are you ever going to tell us what you're researching?" asked George.

"Yes, and not yet, respectively," she said with a grin.

Dumbledore sat next to Arthur, on his right, at the opposite end of the table, studying her silently.

"Professor Dumbledore, it's good to see you. What brings you here today Sir?" prodded Harry. It was unusual to see him oitside5 of the school year, so the question made sense. Hermione still wished he hadn't asked it.

"I came to check on you all and see how Hermione is doing. What is this I hear about a research project?" probed Dumbledore. He was dressed in Some of the most ostentatious robes Hermione had ever seen him in yet. They began at the top as a dark blue and then faded down into a periwinkle an almost into a light lavender, white color. Obviously, it was also covered in glitter.

"Oh, just something to keep me busy," Hermione said with a smile.

"You wouldn't think so, would you?" Hermione commented, but left it there.

"Remus and Sirius should be here soon, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said.

"Nonsense, we already are!" Sirius exclaimed, taking a seat opposite Hermione and Harry. The tension in Hermione's shoulders infinitesimally decreased.

"You two can never be on time, I swear," grumbled Mrs. Weasley, "What kind of example are you setting?"

Hermione ignored her comments and waited for dinner to be served. She didn't have to tell Mrs. Weasley, or Dumbledore, what her plans were as of yet. Though she suspected one of them already knew.

Mrs. Weasley levitated the food to the center of the table, and dinner began with little preamble. There were the usual conversations, excitement about Quidditch, going back for the term, who the new Defense teacher would be…and all the while Dumbledore studied her out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione did not know what he was searching for, but she simply did not feel like giving it to him. She discussed getting new robes with Ginny for the new year, both of them having grown a fair bit.

Dinner passed quickly and easily. Though Hermione couldn't see Mrs. Weasley, she could sense the irritating buzzing of her magic all the way at the other end of the table.

Hermione intended to go upstairs and pack the belongings which had made it out her trunk after dinner, but before she could follow everyone else out of the kitchen Dumbledore interceded in her plans.

"Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Molly, I would like you all to stay for a few moments, if you wouldn't mind," he said genially. Hermione was not fooled. She cast an exasperated glance at Sirius but sat back down at the table.

Dumbledore waited for the kitchen to clear out the rest of the way and for everyone to take a seat before he unceremoniously ousted her.

"It has come to my attention that Miss Granger has been in talks of an adoption contract with Mr. Garrick Ollivander," he said. No preamble. A smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes. The ends of Hermione's hair began to spark.

Before she could put in a word edgewise, "Why would you do that, for Circe's sake?" Directed at her from Mrs. Weasley.

"Now, Dumbledore, this isn't really your concern," from Remus, trying to temper the room.

"She is, and there isn't anything wrong with it!" from Sirius.

"So ungrateful! We opened our home to you! I knew those two were bad for you to be around, but no you just wanted to do whatever you felt like!"

"She just came to the library Molly," corrected Remus.

"No witch so young as Hermione should ever be alone unchaperoned with wizards your age! And your reputation!" she said pointing at Sirius.

At this Hermione truly began to lose her temper in earnest. She had been quiet, letting them have it out, but her hair sparked and frizzed out of control. "STOP IT! IT ISN'T UNGRATEFUL TO WANT A PLACE OF MY OWN. MY PARENTS ARE DEAD AND ALL YOU'VE MANAGED TO DO IS TELL ME I MOURN IMPROPERLY! THIS. IS. NOT. ABOUT. YOU! SIRIUS AND REMUS HAVE BEEN HELPING ME FAR MORE! AND NEITHER OF THEM HAVE EVER BEEN IN ANY WAY INAPPROPRIATE! MR. OLLIVANDER IS KIND, AND I'LL BE DOING WHAT I PLEASE!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Hermione lowered her voice, but continued before Mrs. Weasley could cut her off, "You are not my mother, Mrs. Weasley, and you are not my father or guardian, Professor Dumbledore. I have sought out someone who needed an heir, who is kind, and you cannot keep me from my choices. Technically, I'm of age." She'd well and truly had it. Honestly, the nerve of the woman. She was standing, not remembering having done it. Her breathing was labored and her throat was raw, voice cracking.

Dumbledore held his hand up for silence as Molly continued to yell, telling Hermione she was ungrateful, and she didn't understand. A broken record. Dumbledore had stayed calm enough through it, but he knew he wanted to speak his bit. She could see the opposition in his eyes.

"Molly, I do not believe Hermione meant to insult you as such. She's always been mature for her age and she is only seeking her own space. I also do not appreciate your implications toward Sirius or Remus. They are good men and would never take advantage of her. Now, Miss Granger, while I can understand your need for space, I do not believe this is the best choice for you," he said with an even tone, condescending, and infuriating. *I think it best you remain close to Harry, he needs you."

Hermione knew Harry needed her. What did he think she was going to do, abandon him? No. She would not allow herself to be used to Dumbledore's ends. "It doesn't matter, Headmaster. I've already signed the contract, which is binding. I'll be just as available to Harry as I always was, but I will not be used by anyone. I will not be stuck in the net that Ginny Weasley is. I will not be your pawn, like Harry has to be. I will not sit idly by whilst you move us all around on a chessboard of your own making, being abused emotionally by Ronald and ignored. No. I will be doing this, and I will be staying with Sirius and Remus and Harry while I await the final paperwork and binding ceremony. Good evening," and with that, Hermione Granger-Ollivander left the kitchen, packed her things, and waited next to the Floo for Sirius, Remus, and Harry. It had not been her intent to leave tonight, or for things to blow up as they had, but her choice was made.

No one else said anything to her as she waited, though she could see the twins didn't care one way or another, they were smiling at her. Ginny gave her a smirk, but wouldn't speak against her mother, for which Hermione could not blame her. She still had to live here, while Hermione did not. Ron was quiet, which was unusual. She had expected him to blow up at her like he always did, but he averted his eyes and didn't say a word. Arthur just hugged her and went upstairs to help Harry pack his things. No one could keep Harry here either, as his actual home was with his Godfather.

It felt like she had waited an eternity, but Harry finally came down the stairs with all of his things, and Hedwig. Hermione had Crookshanks tucked into his carrier, waiting. Once he had all of his things, and said goodbye to everyone, he and Hermione left. Hermione was not willing to wait for Sirius or Remus any longer than she already had, and decided to wait for them at Grimmauld. It was really much simpler than trying to continue to argue with Mrs. Weasley or Dumbledore, and really, she had no desire to.

She smiled tiredly at Harry, "I'm going to go upstairs and see which rooms have been cleaned. Honestly, I'm knackered. I just want to go to sleep."

"Alright, Hermione. Go and get some rest."

Just then, a quiet pop sounded on Hermione's left. "Missy Ollivander will be givings me her trunk. I will puts it away. Missy's room is upstairs on the left," and just as quickly, Winky was gone with her things. Hermione sighed, and let Crookshanks out of his carrier. He yowled, irritated, and bounded off towards the library.

Similarly, Harry's trunk was snatched by Dobby, who told him Harry's room was across from Hermione's. Harry shrugged and accepted he was unlikely to be rid of Dobby easily. The little elf had latched onto him.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a tired glance, fraught with tension due to the fight she'd just had with her Headmaster and Mrs. Weasley. She knew she'd been screaming, and she knew they'd all heard her, but she had not cared at the time.

Hermione waved at Harry and went to get some much-needed rest. It had been a very long day, and she was certainly due for a decent amount of sleep.

* * *

Remus and Sirius had come in soon after Hermione had gone upstairs to get some rest. Harry knew Hermione had been having difficulty staying at the Burrow, and he understood it to a degree. But Mrs. Weasley was really being rather ridiculous about the whole thing. Hermione had been given a time-turner, for goodness' sake! She had never been prone to childish antics or shoddy decision making. She was the one that had kept them on task for so many years, the reason they hadn't failed their classes. She was as far from stupid or selfish as one could get. Hermione hadn't been planning on divulging her secret adoption until the ceremony was completed, and though at first Harry hadn't really understood, he certainly did now.

Mrs. Weasley had not been the nicest to her, had she? She hadn't been unkind, but she certainly had not welcomed Hermione in the same way she had Harry. It bothered him, and he didn't understand it. Hermione was no less deserving of kindness than Harry. They were both orphans, both Ron's friend. The only difference being Hermione was not fated to vanquish a Dark Lord…And he realized Mrs. Weasley certainly treated Ginny differently than the boys. More was expected of her, and somehow less, as well? She was to be doing more around the house, but she was never harangued for bad marks on essays. Was it really simply because she was female? Remus and Sirius' entrance had interrupted his uncomfortable musings.

"Well, that went well," Sirius replied sarcastically.

"About as well as we expected," Remus said grimly.

"Where has Hermione gone?" Sirius addressed Harry, now.

"She went upstairs to get some sleep. She said she was right knackered, and honestly looked it. I couldn't fault her for wanting rest or privacy, after all of that. I don't understand Mrs. Weasley's treatment of her, to be honest. Hermione was just her usual self, if not a bit sad since losing her parents, and ever since they died Mrs. Weasley seemed to crack down on her. It doesn't make sense to me. Why would she speak to Hermione that way? And the more I think of it the angrier I get at her implications towards the two of you. Anyone with eyes can see the only people you're interested in are one another, and really, you're more like her Uncles than anything else. I just don't get it!"

"Whoa! Breathe Harry," from Sirius.

"Maybe we can help you with some of it at least. Although, let us not leave Albus out of your irritations. He had no right to do that to the poor girl," remarked Remus. He let loose a low growl. The moon was a little over a week away, and it was beginning to show.

"Please do. Oh, I'm right furious with him too, but I'm used to him meddling." Harry replied.

"Alright, well," Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance, "you need to remember that the Weasley family are in fact, purebloods. As much as it is a ridiculous prejudice, Molly Weasely nee Prewett was brought up to believe that daughters would bear heirs, and sons would further the family tree. As nauseating as it is, she is not really one to stray from her beliefs. This is how she was brought up after all. It's what she knows. She doesn't want to eradicate witches or wizards because they aren't pureblooded, but neither has she really separated herself from what she was brought up to believe. Have you noticed how she's far stricter with Ginny about housework, and how she nags her about not playing so much Quidditch?" Here, Harry nodded. "That's because she will one day wed and bear heirs. She can't be a proper wife unless she's brought up to behave like one. Whereas Ron, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill will and have always been able to do pretty much as they liked. It's also why Molly rides Ron about his grades, because he'll not get a decent job or be able to provide properly for a wife if he isn't working hard at it now. As much as Molly wants to be progressive, these beliefs are as ingrained in her as they are the Malfoy's, and that's why she's been so awful to Hermione. Without Hermione's parents around, Molly came to suspect Dumbledore would have her adopted into the Weasley family, or at the very least she would become a ward of the family. If that were the case, then Molly would have been expecting her to act more like Ginny and far less like the Hermione we know and love. It's backward and it's really just a guess, but there you have it."

"Hermione would never agree to dim her light or her intelligence just like for Molly Weasley. She does not care about the blood or traditions of supremacists, and she wasn't going to change the way she'd always acted to kotow to Molly. It is just not in her. It really is for the best Hermione be adopted by another family who won't seek to control her, and that's just what she's found," Sirius said gently.

"Okay, I guess I can sort of see it, and now I'm really more angry than I was," Harry said lowly. He had been brought up as a Muggle. Women worked just as much as men did, and were often as intelligent, if not more so.

"Also, how long have you know we're a couple?" Sirius asked unabashedly. He and Remus often slept in the same room when they didn't have guests, but they decided not to advertise the fact they were together.

Harry gave a dismissive wave of his hand, "Please, anyone with eyes, remember? I really don't care and I'm happy for you both. Everyone could use some joy these days."

Remus and Sirius exchanged another look, but Harry was wholly distracted with his thoughts. His best friend's mother had been treating Hermione distrustfully, and he had not been able to figure out why, but it all made sense now. If they had expected to adopt Hermione, they would have expected her to fall in line with their wants and beliefs, and Hermione simply would not. She was far too headstrong and opinionated. Egalitarianism had no place in the home of those who followed the line of thinking in Wizarding traditionalism, simply because women were not treated any better now than they had been in seventy years ago in the Muggle world. Of course, witches all had power in their own right, but as far as forward-thinking went, the Wizarding world was quite far behind on the times. Yes, women bore children, but that didn't make them less intelligent than wizards, and Harry found he was incredibly irked at the explanation which had just provided to him. Truly he had not understood the reasoning behind the subtle changes in Hermione's treatment by Mrs. Weasley, but now that he did he couldn't imagine he would have been able to do anything differently in her shoes. As a matter of fact, he rather thought he would have been far less patient than Hermione.

Harry knew Ron had been watching her closely, interested in maybe the idea of dating their mutual friend for a little while now. However, if Ron had anywhere near close to the same ideals as his mother, Hermione would eat him for breakfast before considering dating him. No, he rather thought that relationship to be unlikely. Ginny, however, never struggled to oppose her mother. She fought with her all the time. The twins humored her of course, but they had always done their own thing. Harry chastised himself for missing something so obvious for so long. He knew there were many things he missed, not being raised here, but perhaps he should start paying better attention. Especially to Hermione, because as far as he was concerned, she was his sister and it would not do for her to be treated like that. Not even by Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you, Remus, Sirius, for explaining that to me. Were you raised with similar beliefs?"

"I was," Sirius commented, "unfortunately. The Black's are some of the worst blood purists around, and they always steeped themselves in the traditions of old. Fortunately for me, I'm not nearly as close-minded, and I had some really good friends to ensure I never got as bad as them. It didn't make sense to me, really. Not after seeing how much smarter Lily was than a lot of our class…"

"And they couldn't keep me around if they really believed all those awful things. Fear is a terrible motivator, I am afraid," commented Remus.

"Remus, you might urn furry once a month, and you're a dangerous duellist, but you're a kind man. If they can't be human enough to see you for who you are, not condemn you for something which happened to you as a four-year-old child due to the prejudices of your father, then you're better off without them," softly, from Sirius. He took Remus' hand and squeezed it gently.

Harry studied his godfather's expression as he looked softly at Remus, and was suddenly glad he wasn't raised surrounding by all of the fame, and prejudice, and expectations. He was glad he didn't have such a narrow view of women. Perhaps he had been abused at the hands of the Dursley's for many years, but he hadn't been taught to think less of a person because of their sex. A brilliant mind was a brilliant mind, and that was always true in the Muggle world. Harry was definitely grateful for that. Harry made himself a promise while he sat in contemplation with Sirius and Remus in front of the fire, to keep a better eye on Hermione this year. He wouldn't allow her mistreatment, nor Ginny's for that matter. Neither witch would hesitate to hex the bollocks off anyone, but, Harry would try to ensure they wouldn't need to. Remus' eyes softened as he looked back at Sirius, and it was sweet to see.

"I'm glad you two aren't hiding anymore," Harry said absently, still half lost in his own thoughts.

"We weren't really hiding, just didn't know how to bring it up," Sirius replied turning to look at him. "Remus and I have been together for years. He understands me in ways no other witch or wizard could. I would have told you sooner, but it just never seemed the right time, what with being a mad Azkaban murderer, and he a werewolf, and basilisks...It's just been a lot going on."

"Do all old families think the same way?" Harry asked, continuing the other conversation.

"I think it's more common than we would all like," Remus replied. "Not everyone thinks the same, but the Sacred 28, for certain share a lot of the same beliefs and traditions."

"Well, no wonder I find Malfoy so grating," Harry said with a smirk. He dropped the topic then, conversation turning to the Marauder days when they would torment Lucius at Hogwarts After a few hours of laughter, they all retired to get some rest. The day's events had most definitely been a myriad of exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ya'll, I need a beta. I try to catch all my mistakes, and I simply fail. I'm bad at editing my own writing. If anyone is interested, please send me a message. Fiar warning, there's Dumbledore and Weasley bashing in this fic. And that's not likely to change really, so don't read it if you don't like it. Additionally, I have another question for my readers: Would you all prefer the longer chapters, or would you like me to post more often? I can probably post twice a week if you'd rather, but I tend to write my chapters in one go and I've been keeping them between four and five thousand words. Let me know your preferences and I'll see what I can do. :D


	6. New Beginnings

Hermione trudged up the stairs to find a room to sleep in, on the left, as instructed. She wouldn't bother to unpack her things, because she wouldn't be here long, but she could appreciate how quickly the house elves worked when asked.

Her room was a warm burgundy color, with traces of gold touched here and there. The mahogany bed frame had been cleaned and now looked new. It looked as if the mattress may even have been new, but Hermione couldn't be sure. Sirius would have had the funds to replace most of Grimmauld, but he just hadn't bothered since he had taken up residence in his family home.

A heavy sigh escaped her, and she decided a nice long bath was in order. Gathering her things she traipsed down the hall to have a nice, long soak. She decided she was long overdue for some relaxing, especially after the day she'd had. She set her toiletries out in the bathroom, turned the tap on, got undressed, and sunk into the heat like an old friend.

The tub must have been spelled to fill with oils and scents, because lavender pervaded her nose and bubbles came from the tap. It was as if the bath could sense she needed to relax, and Hermione was pleased once again at the existence and wonder of magic. She loved this world as much as she loathed it sometimes.

Her thoughts turned to Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore. How dare they?! Dumbledore was known for sticking his nose in where it didn't belong, always in the interests of Harry and _the greater good._ Mrs. Weasley's behavior had been ghastly, as if Hermione was her belonging and should do as she was ordered. No, Hermione was very pleased to be out of that house.

She had always believed Mrs. Weasley to be loving and caring. She never balked at housing she and Harry over Christmas. She always willingly accepted their presence, but Hermione had always felt decidedly _other._ Arthur was constantly asking her about Muggle things, as if she was a token Muggle encyclopedia. Molly was always on her about chores and cleaning, and to get her nose out of her books. As if she didn't have cause to be intelligent and pursue her interests. It had always bothered Hermione, but she hadn't found it loathsome until she was stuck there with no other place to go. It was as if the death of her parents had caused a switch to flip it Molly Weasley, and she began acting as if Hermione no longer had a right to make her own decisions. No, that was simply unacceptable, and she wouldn't be subjected to it any longer.

Dumbledore and his damnably twinkling eyes, telling her _he_ didn't "think it would be a wise decision" for her to be adopted into a family. What right was that of his? The man didn't have any say so over her decisions. He was not her guardian, and had never been. Hermione was furious with the fact he'd shown up and put her on display in front of Molly Weasley for a decision she had every single right to make. Due to the use of her time-turner, Hermione wasn't a child. She had aged beyond her years and did not appreciate his meddling one bit. It wasn't his concern, nor was it in any way his right!

Hermione sighed again, sinking until the bubbles came just below her nose. She was not interested in being under the thumb of either of them. No, thank you. She had read about the Order of the Pheonix, and knew she would likely join, if only to make sure Harry wasn't killed in one of his little plots to kill Voldemort. She would not have a choice there, but she had resigned herself to that a while ago.

" _Fucks sake, this is inane,"_ she thought.

She pulled herself out of the bath and got ready to go to bed. She heard Remus, Sirius, and Harry downstairs, laughing and smiled softly. She was glad Harry was finally home where he belonged. He deserved this joy. She may have been petrified last year, but he was the one who had killed a basilisk. Yes, he deserved every moment of laugher he could manage to garner. In a mere few weeks, they would be returning to Hogwart's and she knew he would miss Sirius terribly.

As she padded back into her borrowed bedroom, she saw an envelope waiting on her pillow. One of the house elves must have put it there for her after receiving the owl.

**_Dear Hermione,_ **

**_Please meet me in the antechamber of the Ministry at three in the afternoon tomorrow. We will have the binding ceremony then, and from there I will take you to your new home so you might get settled in before having to leave for Hogwarts._ **

**_I thought it best to ensure this was done before your return, as I have already been paid a visit by Headmaster Dumbledore. Though I loathe to invite his ire, this matter is simply none of his concern. I assured him I had no desire to stop you from being who you already are, and that as far as I was concerned the only thing I would be changing in your life is your home, and some new studies for you. He did not seem impressed, and he was even more irritated at my refusal to cease the adoption. As it stands, I would like to make it clear you are an Ollivander before you return to school for the term. Hopefully, you find this agreeable._ **

**_Additionally, I received a Howler from Molly Weasley this evening. I knew the woman would be displeased, but really, her language left something to be desired. I hope this letter finds you well, and out of her influence._ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_Garrick Ollivander_ **

Hermione was not shocked at these revelations in the least. She penned him a quick note back affirming her attendance tomorrow afternoon and thanking him profusely for his kindness in adopting her. She would tell the others in the morning, saddened that she would miss the Quidditch World Cup with Harry, should he still decide to go, but excited at the prospect of beginning her new life. She swiped at a few stray tears in the corner of her eyes as she thought of her parents, but persisted.

Hermione quietly called for Hedwig, and after giving her a hefty amount of owl nuts asked her to deliver the missive to Ollivander's as quickly as she could. That done, she fell face first into her pillow, her breathing evening out and asleep within minutes.

Hermione allowed herself a bit of a lie-in, given she didn't have anything else to concern herself with until she needed to be at the ministry. She'd woken, refreshed, at ten in the morning. She yawned and stretched, before throwing aside her comforter and setting about getting ready for the day. She packed all her things, research included, because she would need to have it for Ollivander to see what she was attempting to do.

Once she had everything squared for her journey to the Ministry, she grabbed brunch and some coffee. Kreacher had made quite the spread for them today, and she was glad to possess an appetite again. Harry appeared across from her at the kitchen table just as Hermione had started sipping her second cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Harry," she said with a smile.

"Coffee," he mumbled, plopping himself gracelessly down. Hermione just smirked and levitated a cup over to him, fixed with three sugars and a bit of cream, so the coffee was a dark tan.

When Harry was halfway through the cup, his eyes started to look less zombie-like and more alive. "How did you sleep, Hermione?"

"Quite well. I've got the bonding ceremony at the Ministry today. I thought you all could come with me, and we could get the Floo connection established since we're already going to be there."

"That's a good idea, Hermione," said Remus. He plopped himself down next to Harry and set to making himself tea. Hermione didn't bother with Remus' tea, he never chose the same thing and he was very particular. Side effect of being a werewolf with heightened senses.

"I thought so. Can you all come?"

"I'm sure that won't be difficult to arrange. Harry can go wake Sirius. It's nearly noon and it'll take him at least an hour to get down here," Remus said with a smirk. Harry groaned, but dutifully headed towards Sirius' room upstairs.

"I'm glad you slept well," Remus remarked kindly.

"I thought I would have nightmares of Mrs. Weasley screaming at me some more, but I was apparently too tired to be imaginative in my sleep," she snarked.

"Yes, Molly was particularly distasteful yesterday," he said, his mouth contorted into a grimace of displeasure.

"Thankfully it doesn't matter. I feel bad feeling as if I were a prisoner there, but I can't help but feel as if I've been freed," she commented quietly.

"I can see how you might feel that way, and I certainly cannot fault your feelings," he replied diplomatically.

"I'm looking forward to the start of the term, though I'm loathing running into Ron on the train. I'll be glad for some quiet time away from the Weasley brood for a while, I think," Hermione said, glancing up at him.

"Hermione, you were right to assert yourself yesterday. I know Ron hasn't been kind to you; I witnessed some of his attitude first-hand last year. I know being adopted like this seems fast, but it's a wonderful opportunity and rather perfect for you," Remus said kindly.

She nodded her agreement and thanks, as Harry came back into the kitchen to finish eating his meal. "Sirius will be down soon. He said he would be happy to go with us."

"Lovely. I've already packed up, so I'm ready when you all are. I'll be in the library. Enjoy your breakfast!" Hermione exited the kitchen without another word, looking lighter than she had since the death of her parents. Harry could still see the sadness in miniscule lines across her countenance, but for the first time in nearly a month, her smile reached her eyes.

"That girl is going to change the world one day, I think," commented Remus.

Harry snorted in response. "You underestimate her Remus, she already has."

"I suppose that's true enough."

"Now, when are you and Sirius planning to officially adopt me?" Harry questioned carelessly.

Sirius arrived just in time to watch hot tea erupt from Remus' nose and mouth, as he spluttered to respond to Harry's question. All the while, Harry looked on in amusement.

"Son, are you sure you're not supposed to be in Slytherin?" Sirius mumbled from the doorway. He had heard the exchange thanks to the benefits of his animagus form.

"Told the hat no, so yeah I'm pretty sure," Harry said with a grin. Having finished his food, he took off in search of Hermione.

He found her curled up with a book in her favorite armchair in front of the fire. Hermione looked up at his entry and closed her book with a smile. No small feat, that. Hermione Granger did not cease reading for just anyone.

"You seem at ease here, Harry," she commented.

"I am. They're my family, after all, just like you are," he said with a smile. "I wanted to talk to you before you left off with Ollivander. I spoke with Remus and Sirius last night, at length, about some things, and I just…I see you as my sister Hermione. I know Ron has been a complete git to you at times, and sometimes I'm no better, but I'll be looking out for you this year. You do not deserve it, and I won't let him anymore. I'm sorry it took me so long to really see what's going on, but I finally have, and it will not continue, okay?"

Harry stood awkwardly in front of her, not really having a place to sit where he could see her easily and speak to her. Harry had come to several conclusions last night. One of which was this precisely. Another that Harry Potter would never see Ronald Weasley dating Hermione Granger. There was nothing there for Ron. Hermione was brilliant, competitive, compassionate, and she had grand plans for her life. Ron would be happy to play Quidditch and settle down with someone who wanted to fawn over him. Hermione would never be that person. He had decided to steer Ron clear of her romantically in whatever way he could.

"Thank you, Harry. I love you too, you know?" she said sweetly, standing and gathering him into a hug. "Now sit down, I'm getting a crick in my neck."

Harry chuckled at her and obliged, sitting in the armchair to the left of her. He looked around the library, astounded at what some cleaning could do for the feel of a home. Before, Grimmauld had always seemed dingy. The walls were grey, everything had been coated in dust, and there didn't seem to be any sunlight in the house. It was always so dark, so unpleasant. It was like night and day.

"The house looks great," he said absently. "If only we could unstick Walburga from the entry hall…"

"Oh, never you mind. I'll figure that out, but for now she'll be blessedly silent. I put a permanent sticking charm on her curtains. They won't open unless it's countered. It's really been blissful without her incessant wailing."

"That makes sense. I was wondering why she wasn't nattering on at us when we arrived last night. For a portrait, the woman has an impressive amount of injury. Her insults are tiresome though. Never says anything new, that one," Harry replied with a grin.

"You know, I bet Kreacher could remove her. Perhaps we ask him to take his former Mistress someplace, like this new private quarters?"

"Hermione! That's vile! Clever, but vile. No one deserves to have Wlaburga watching them sleep," exclaimed Harry with a wide smile. He also had a mischievous glint in his eye she quite appreciated.

Hermione chuckled, and they started to make plans to meet in a weeks' time after getting their letters for the beginning of term. Hermione would probably be spending a fair amount of time at Ollivander's wand shop, so he could just come and pick her up for their shopping. Time had passed far more quickly than either of them had thought, because in what seemed a matter of a few minutes they were being collected by Sirius and Remus and escorted into the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

There were few ways into the Ministry, and they'd decided to split up. Sirius and Harry went by way of the men's restrooms, while Remus and Hermione found a phone booth to grant them entry. They met up in front of the fountain and looked out for Ollivander.

Harry did his level best to ignore the stares he was garnering from Ministry employees, but he was quite recognizable. Everyone wanted to meet The-Boy-Who-Lived, and he rather loathed the attention. Thankfully Ollivander was prompt, two minutes early, and after exchanging pleasantries they were on their way.

Ollivander stepped into the elevator, searched for the desired lever, and pulled. The elevator lurched to the left and fell several floors at what would have been an alarming rate, if not for the existence of magic.

"Ah, here we are," said Ollivander. The elevator spoke out, "Office of Magical Child Welfare, Floor 18," and the doors opened. They kept off quickly, unwilling to stay on the elevator longer than necessary.

Hermione followed Ollivander up to a desk, speaking to the welcome witch to announce their arrival. She smiled politely and told them to take a seat as it would be a few minutes.

As they waited, it was decided Sirius would go to get the Floor connections settled. as he sauntered back towards the elevators muttering about _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,_ the welcome witch approached and asked they follow her.

Hermione's stomach was in knots, nervous at being bound to a family so soon. She knew it was for the best to have it done quickly, but she couldn't help her bout of nerves. Sensing her tension, Remus placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as they walked down a hall past the witch's desk, unseen, opened the seventh door on the right, and gestured them inside.

"Welcome, and congratulations on your adoption! My name is Jamira Lovett, and I will be officiating today." The witch who greeted them was warm and smiling. She wore official Ministry robes and gestured to them all to sit, as she retook her set behind her desk.

"It is my job to ensure you are both here of your own free will, and to document the proceedings. I will run a few simple tests, say some words, and file paperwork signifying your adoption with the Ministry," she said pleasantly. She looked down at her desk to read their names, and then back up, quickly. She must have realized who was in the office.

Hermione watched the witches eyes grow large with shock, "Merlin! You're Harry Potter! So lovely to meet you!"

"Erm, thank you. Let's not focus on me though…"

"Quite right, quite right, my apologies. Not what we're here for today!" she muttered an incantation and a golden light erupted from her want and spilled over Ollivander and Hermione in tandem.

"Now, Miss Granger, are you here today of your own free will, to be adopted into the Ollivander family by Garrick Ollivander?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. And as she did so the golden light pulsed green. _Interesting. Some kind of truth spell?_

Jamira continued, "Mr. Garrick Ollivander, are you here today of your own free will to invite Miss Hermione Granger into your family, to protect, teach, and care for her as your own?"

" I am." Again, the light pulsed green and then returned to a golden shimmer.

The officiant ceased the spell and pulled out a parchment while explaining its purpose. "This parchment will, after receiving a few drops of your blood, catalog all magical signatures present and tie your new name to your magical signature. It also serves as a sort of archive, helping with the trace for underage witches and wizards. It will track your bloodlines and help to update other registries as well, when the time comes. This is standard practice for all adoptions. Please hold out your hand. I'll draw a bit of blood and heal the wound for you."

Hermione simply nodded and held her hand out to the witch. She was quick and efficient, and before Hermione looked up from her drops of blood falling into the advanced runic circle on the parchment, her hand skin was knitted back together as if nothing had happened.

"it can take a few moments to process everything," Jamira explained easily.

Like magic, the blood and runes faded, and in its place appeared what looked like an extensive report, and a family tree.

"Well, that's rather interesting. Tell me, did you know that you're actually descended from Ollivander blood?"

Hermione could feel her eyebrows climbing up her face. Obviously no, she hadn't known. She looked at Ollivander who sat on her right-hand side, her mouth open in shock. Ollivander was, she was pleased to see, just as surprised.

"Oh, I would assume not given your facial expressions. No matter. The adoption would still need to take place for the inheritance and such."

Clearing her throat, Hermione spoke up with some difficulty. "One moment. I'm sorry. Could you please explain our relation? I was not aware I had any magical blood."

"Would you like a copy of the report? That way you can study it at your leisure and research your bloodlines?"

"Please, that would be lovely," was all Hermione could think to say.

Nodding, the witch touched her wand to the parchment, saying _geminio,_ and handed Hermione a copy of what was before her. She thanked her again and handing the parchment over to Harry for safekeeping. He caught her eye, and she could see her questions reflected back in them.

"Alright then, shall we proceed?"

"Absolutely. I've serendipitously found my last living relative. I'd like to adopt her in earnest before she brings about more surprises," joked Ollivander. Hermione turned to look at him. He hadn't known either, but it made more sense to Hermione. She has felt at ease with this man from the moment she had met him when she was fitted for her wand.

She cracked a smile of her own and nodded for the officiant to proceed. She would very much like to study where they were related.

"Alright then! Please hold hands."

Hermione and Ollivander reached out and help hands, facing the official.

"Invoco familia vinculum!"

A bright light shot from the end of the witch's wand and enveloped their hands. Nearly immediately, Hermione felt a sense of belonging settle into her heart. She looked over and smiled at Ollivander, to see him showing contentment across his features.

A thought can unbidden to the forefront of Hermione's brilliant mind, what if Dumbledore had known all along and that's why he had attempted to stop the adoption? Her smile faulted momentarily before she filled the thought away for later. _Not now, now is a time of joy._

She turned and hugged Ollivander, and once released, she quickly turned to hug Remus and Harry. Moments later, Sirius wandered back into the office.

"Got that sorted. Took forever. Did I miss it?"

Everyone in the office, including the presiding official, broke out in laughter. Of course, this only served to confuse Sirius even more. He was upset he wasn't in on the joke, as he was so wont to be.

"Come on Pads, we'll fill you in on the way home," remarked Remus, slinging his arm around the nonplussed man's shoulders. Sirius looked as if he wanted to protest, but Remus was stronger, and he knew there wasn't any point. He shrugged slightly and left the office with Remus, sure Hermione, Harry, and Ollivander would follow.

Once back in the elevator, Sirius couldn't handle it anymore. "Anyone care to tell me what I missed?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged an amused look before Ollivander jumped in. "How about we go to ours and discuss it there? You'll be able to Floo back and forth now, and I imagine Hermione here is itching to start research," he said with a chuckle.

"You are not wrong," Hermione said with a smile.

"Alright then. Hermione's trunk is in the parlor at Grimmauld, so she'll need to hop back and get it, regardless," Sirius replied with a smile.

Harry handed Hermione back the parchment, which she had carefully rolled up without looking at it. She knew as soon as she did, she would be lost in all the information it held and trying to figure out how she was connected to the Ollivander family. Was it her mother or her father's side? Was this why Dumbledore did not want to her to be adopted? Why did he care? Did he know she had family, and keep her from him deliberately? Her mind was a constant whir or questions, her fingers itching for her quill to write down her thoughts before they left her.

They entered the main floor of the Ministry and lined up in the queue for the Floo connection. Anyone who was connected to the Floo could leave this way, but they couldn't enter this way. Something about public connections and safety concerns, which made sense to Hermione. Honestly, she thought they should be far more careful than they were. Nearly everyone she'd ever met knew about the public entrances into the Ministry of Magic. Silly really, that they were so concerned with the Floo gates, then.

"My trunk, in fact, is in my pocket. Though, I will need to return to grab Crookshanks this evening," Hermione said with a grin.

"A shrinking charm?" queried Ollivander. He knew the shrinking charm well. Was quite adept with it, even. For someone so young to be able to properly apply a shrinking charm to an item so large with such contents inside, was rather impressive. Sometimes it was hard to get everything to shrink and resize properly if there were a lot of things. He wasn't really shocked at Hermione's capabilities, but he was a bit impressed she could manage it so well.

"Hmm, yes," she replied a bit distractedly. "I've been using the shrinking charm, the featherlight charm, and the summoning charm rather often since second year. It allows me to carry more things with none of the weight. With as many classes as I take, and as many notes, you either learn a way to make it easier, or you stop carrying all the things you might need and risk running late to your classes," Hermione replied with a smile. "I do not like to be late."

"Quite right! Clever of you," and then they were finally at the front of the line. "Listen to me carefully, I'll be waiting on the other side. The wards will recognize you Hermione but dally a bit and give me time to relax them for visitors," he said warmly. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, Ollivander hopped into the flames and said, "Herrenhaus!" disappearing into the whoosh of flames.

Hermione grinned in excitement at her other three companions and made them recite Herrenhaus three times each, before hopping into the flames herself disappearing to her new home.

Upon her arrival, she found Ollivander waiting for her. "I said a few minutes, Hermione. It's been at least ten!"

"Not everyone can pronounce Herrenhaus, you know. I had to make sure they didn't mess it up!"

Moments later, Harry, then Remus, and Sirius appeared. "Well it seems like they didn't suffer much under your tutelage, what with your professed awful German skills." Ollivander said, cracking a smile.

"I cannot speak conversational German, but I can pronounce some things," she teased back with a smile.

"Welcome, all, to Herrenhaus! I don't spend much time here, what with being at the shop, but you're all welcome to visit Hermione or myself should you feel like it. The Floo will be open for your use from now on. I keyed the wards to allow you entry, so it won't set of a caterwauling charm anymore. I'm so used to being in here alone, it was more convenient that way," Ollivander said with a sheepish grin.

Looking around, Harry could see it was a stately home, and was obviously old. Almost everything in the Wizarding world seemed to be that way. Nothing had progressed past the middle ages. People lived in castles, unless they lived in a modern area like Diagon. From what Sirius and Remus had told him about Potter Manor, it had been much the same. When the houses were built, so long ago, it was just a different era. Thankfully, Herrenhaus didn't seem to hold with a lot of the gaudy looks he had witnessed for himself. Grimmauld had been dim, dingy, and rather undesirable until it had been fully cleaned. Other homes seemed to be trimmed in gold and house colors. Most definitely ugly to his sensible tastes.

Hermione's new home was warm. It was all browns, tans, and creams. Earth toned and friendly, and the high vaulted ceilings helped to open up the space even further. He could see through the wall of windows they were positioned higher up than he had anticipated. There was a lake, and what looked to be gardens as well. He was sure the grounds would be explored in all their expanse, eventually.

"You have a beautiful home," said Remus. He had been looking around just as much as Harry had, and seemed pleased at it's warmth as well.

"Much better than the shack I've lived in for years! There aren't even house elves on the walls," commented Sirius. Always one for levity, he cracked a grin.

"I should hope not, Mister Black," replied a house-elf next to Hermione's right. She had not heard her appear and startled a bit.

"Oh! Hello! I'm Hermione," she said to the little elf, kindly.

"I know, Miss Hermione. If you'll hand over your things, I'll be putting them away for you. When you're ready to retire this evening, please call for me, Dotty, and I'll take you to your rooms and help you get settled," the elf said with a smile.

Hermione was taken aback at the language directed at her by the house-elf, far used to the syntax of the elves in Hogwart's, but she smiled back at Dotty. She slipped her hand into her pocket and handed over the shrunken trunk. "Thank you, Dotty. I appreciate your attentiveness. I will call for you if I need anything."

"Please do, Miss. This is a very well done shrinking charm. Most witches and wizards have issues with resizing things…" she trailed off, "Speaking of Miss, when you have some time we will be getting you into proper robes for a young lady. No Ollivander will have less than Dotty's best," she said matter of fact.

Taken aback, Hermione could only nod at the elf, who popped out of existence with the trunk.

"Now, we could have a tour, but I think Sirius is more interested in discovering what happened. And I'm fairly sure Hermione is more than ready to start her researching," came Ollivander's voice.

"Yes please, let's figure this out," said Harry. He found he was just as curious as Hermione, and he was wondering about what the spell might reveal for him, if Hermione could replicate it.

"This way to the sitting room then!" Ollivander swept them out of the parlor with it's many large Floo grates, down a long hallway, and through a doorway opening to a wonderfully sunlit space with a table for them all. "I think this should work."

Everyone took a seat, and without further preamble, Hermione launched into an explanation for Sirius about what he had, indeed, missed. She could not tear her eyes from the unrolled parchment in front of her; thoughts and ideas whirring and swimming behind her eyes. Harry thought he may have seen some steam emanating from the tips of her ears.


	7. Discoveries Abound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Love: Thank you Kate! I appreciate your insight and help! <3 
> 
> A/N: We start to ramp up soon, I promise. Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think! ~VerdeVeritas

After Hermione’s succinct explanation, Sirius seemed rather interested in the spell work the adoption official had used as well. If there was actually a way to trace bloodlines so efficiently, it could most certainly be used to their advantage. He was sure of it. 

“Why do you think Dumbledore knew, Hermione?” asked Harry. He was uncomfortable with her attitude concerning their Headmaster, though he surely could be understanding of it. Dumbledore wasn’t the benevolent father figure Harry would have wished. Ever since he had tried to keep Sirius from him, Harry had been displeased with him in general. Hermione was the one who had ensured his freedom. How she had done it, he wasn’t entirely certain, but he was thankful nonetheless for her willingness to fight on his behalf. Somehow she had secured a meeting with the Wizengamot for Harry, Ron, and herself to produce evidence of Sirius’ freedom, and she had done it in a mere twelve hours. She had always been clever. 

“I’m not sure he knew, but it’s a feeling I have. He knows so much more than he tells us, Harry. And how did he know the paperwork had been drafted? He has to have someone as an informant in that department of the Ministry, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I really think if I had balked at signing the contract he would have put a stop to the adoption in any way he could think of. What I don’t understand, is why?” Hermione mused. 

Sirius, Remus, and Hermione were pouring themselves over the parchment the department official had copied for them. They were set on deconstructing the charms, enchantments, and arithmancy so they could duplicate it. Hermione always wanted to know how things worked, but Harry could see how it could be useful. 

“From what this says,” Ollivander broke through Harry’s thoughts, “it appears as if Hermione is my great-granddaughter. Apparently, my son, Alder, and his wife Imogen, begot a child during the time Grindelwald was coming to power. Sadly, they both perished fighting Voldemort, but their child must have prospered because here you are. He may have been a squib, but it’s hard to tell from the parchment. Magic has been known to skip a generation once or twice. It’s not impossible.” Ollivander explained. “They’d never told me they’d had a daughter, but look here she is. It looks as if she gave birth to a son, your father, Hermione. It certainly explains the hair…” he trailed off. 

“The hair? What do you mean it explains the hair?” Harry questioned. Ollivander looked up to see blatant curiosity on the faces of all his guests and his newly discovered granddaughter. 

“Oh, sorry. Come with me. Just through here. There are tons of portraits. You’ll see what I mean, and it’s faster than explaining it,” he said with a smile. 

There was an adjoining door off to the left, which opened into what looked like a portrait gallery. It seemed as if every Ollivander was up on the walls, and most of them had curly, unruly, brown hair. Ollivander’s hair was white, but he was easily into his seventies. Whilst not old for a wizard, his hair had changed some time ago. 

“Oh, I see what you mean,” replied Harry quickly. He stole a glance at Hermione, whose jaw had dropped. 

“Definitely genetic,” Sirius teased. “I bet if you’d all cut your hair off it would combine into some giant hair dragon and destroy us all.” 

“It would likely just come after you, for all the times you’ve teased me!” Hermione exclaimed with a smile. “Okay, so yes, that does explain the hair. Must be one of those dominant traits that bloodlines seem to have. I guess that answers a question. My Dad definitely is the person I got my hair from.” 

“Why did the witch say you would need to adopt me for me to inherit? I mean, I’m still your direct family genetically,” Hermione mused. 

“Well, there’s an old law which states those descended from a Squib line need to be reintroduced magically into the family. Something old Pureblood fanatics quietly put in place to disinherit their Squib family members since they aren’t magical. Because someone’s parent is a Squib, they may not want to claim that person because they believe it would weaken their magical bloodline,” Ollivander explained. 

“What utter rubbish!” said an irritated Harry. 

“That’s the way they think, unfortunately” muttered Sirius darkly. 

“Let’s just put that on the list of things I need to fix later,” Hermione said, her tone brooking no argument. Her jaw set is stubborn determination. “I’m going to be a busy woman after school.” 

“Of that, I have no doubt. If anyone can fix the asinine laws that they’ve put into place, it will be you,” Harry replied lightly. 

“Right, then, back to work for the lot of you!” Hermione said ushering her family out of the portrait room. They all laughed but complied with her orders. 

“I’ll have the house-elves prepare dinner for everyone since it appears our resident swot is going to keep us here for a while,” commented Ollivander warmly. 

“I have already taken care of it, Master,” said Dotty, popping back out the room immediately. 

“I don’t think I’ll get used to that,” muttered Hermione. 

“Oh, you will. Dotty is the only reason I’m sane, honestly. She takes care of a lot, and she will take care of you too. Her family has been with ours for many generations. They work on shifts, and they keep this place up far better than I ever could. They’ve a little home out back in the gardens, I’ll show you sometime,” Ollivander supplied. 

“Oh, good. I’m more pleased than I can say they’ve a decent place to stay. A lot of elves are so mistreated, really it’s sad,” Hermione lamented. “They’re bonded to Wizarding homes because they need to be. They love the work because it’s their nature, but that doesn’t make them slaves.” 

“Too right, Miss Hermione.” Dotty interrupted. “We are not “free” as we still have bonds, but we are free elves. News of your efforts have gotten to me even here at Herrenhaus. Maybe we can discuss that later, I might be able to help you,” and she popped out again. 

“Really! She is silent as a ninja!” Harry commented. Hermione just chuckled and started going over the parchment again. She wanted to figure out how to replicate this piece of magic for Harry, and anyone else who wanted to use it. There were several Muggle-borns at the school who would likely be curious. It wouldn’t hurt to know how to do it. 

“This looks like a combination of a point me, modified to tie to bloodline records, with some runic component to contain and track the bloodline, which is probably for the trace itself. I think we can replicate this simply enough. It may not give you all the genetic details, like this one, but if the goal is simply a magical family tree, we can do that,” Remus explained with fervor. He hadn’t been a DADA professor for nothing. He was very good at dissecting spells when he needed to be. 

“I think you’re right. I bet we can figure out how to replicate this simply enough. It may take a try or two, but it’s not as if it’s going to hurt to try it out,” added Sirius. 

“I think I can help with the runes. They’re a component in all wand work so I may be able to dissect how it all ties together,” offered Ollivander. 

“That would be lovely. I would like to be able to do this for anyone at Hogwarts who asks. I’m sure my new status will be the talk of the school once they figure it out,” Hermione stated grimly. Unfortunately, a side effect of being best friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived was far too much attention. She’d been the subject of rumors and derisive comments since she could remember. It was enough to make her roll her eyes, actually. 

“It would be a good trick to have in your pocket,” smirked Sirius. “Plus you could really stir some stuff if you managed to get some of those Purebloods to participate. I bet they would be very unhappy to find out they’re not all as pure as they think they are,” he chuckled. He knew the amount of intermarrying between the Pureblood families was rather disgusting, but for there to be so little in the way of deformities, genetically, there had to be fresh blood in families. It may be well hidden, but Sirius was nearly positive it existed in most Pureblood families. Magic could do a lot, and it could heal a lot of ills, but it could not make up for lack of new genetics. Hence the Black family trait of madness. If Hermione was brilliant enough, she could possibly sway the children of Death Eaters away from following in the footsteps of their parents. 

“That may have occurred to me,” Hermione hedged. 

Ollivander was still studying the parchment intently. His fingers slid over the runes while muttering to himself. It wasn’t exactly a complicated use of the runes, but it was a many-layered spell with a lot of components. He could clearly see wunjo, nauthiz, eihwaz, mannaz, othalaz, and berkana. Those runes made sense, what didn’t make sense was the arithmancy he was looking at combined with the rune work. There didn’t seem to actually be a need for the arithmancy, unless it was perhaps to stabilize the runes? 

“Are any of you good with arithmancy?” 

“I’m alright at it, but for that, you want Hermione,” opined Harry, who pointed at the other side of the table. Hermione was writing something down on her parchment. 

“I’m already working out the arithmancy. From what I saw it’s to support the runes, and not much else. It’s a steady base for the runes to do their work,” Hermione muttered. Looking up she said, “I’ve already got the underlying equation. If you can explain the runes a little better to me, I think we can make an attempt at this tonight.” 

“Oh, well I’ve got the runes. Those aren’t overly complicated either. They’re just there to give the blood its direction. It’s giving it intent, so that the blood will reveal its secrets.”

“As does the point me charm and the  familiae sanguis revelare. For all intents and purposes, this is just like a Muggle DNA test, but its specific purpose is to track the magic in the blood. It’s rather clever, really. I wonder if they’ve always done this at the Ministry? I can’t say I’ve heard of it before,” supplied Remus.

“Would they really want the masses to be aware they could do this test though? With the basis of the first wizarding war being purity of the blood, if the Death Eaters and Voldemort knew then they could have tested a drop of someone’s blood and been positive whether or not they were pureblooded, it would have been even more of a bloodbath than it was. And, I doubt Voldemort would have wanted rumors of it running amok because he was a half-blood. It wouldn’t do to disappoint all your sycophants that way, right?” reasoned Sirius. “If he knew it existed, then I assure you it was a purposefully kept secret.”

“He’s a half-blood!?” yelled Harry. Of course, Voldemort was always going to be a touchy subject to Harry for the obvious reasons, but really, Hermione could understand the outburst.

“He is,” confirmed Remus. 

“That is uniquely infuriating,” commented Hermione.

Harry grunted in agreement, evidently still too angry to speak. No one could blame him. The deformed creature, once man, was touting blood purity and purity of magic, when he himself was a half-blood. How many of his followers knew? How many of those prejudiced murderers were aware their beloved psychopath was a half-blood? Honestly, it was inane enough that blood purity was even an issue, and the concept that Muggleborns could steal magic was as insane as the venerable leader of the Death Eaters. None of his propaganda made sense when one looked a little deeper. What he was after, was power, and he was willing to do and say anything to get the old families on his side since they are the ones who held the majority of the money. If the Malfoy’s pulled out of Britain, so did most of the wealth from Gringotts. That would be a problem for most of the Wizarding world, given they were small and the economy couldn’t take much in the way of a hit.

“Yes, but, we’ve solved this problem I think. Let’s all get cleaned up and have dinner? Afterward, we can try to set this out and see if it works the intended way,” offered Ollivander. 

“Dinner sounds lovely, thank you,” Hermione said sweetly. “I’ll meet you all there, I think Dotty should show me where I live now.” 

“I can do that Miss, please come with me!” Dotty reached out her hand to Hermione, once again appearing out of thin air so quietly Hermione was beginning to wonder if she really was a ninja. 

“Thank you, Dotty,” and Hermione disappeared with a slight pop, presumably to her room. Dotty had been wanting to get her settled in since she had arrived, and it was fairly evident. 

“Well, old friend, please show us the way to the lovely meal we are to be treated to,” commented Sirius. 

“We may as well settle in, Dotty is going to want to show Hermione everything she needs. She’s a much better hostess than I will ever be a host,” commented Ollivander. 

Leaving the sitting room, they walked further down the hall into what looked like a ballroom, with a huge table in the center. The room was just as lovely as the rest of Herrenhaus, though the ballroom was done mostly in soft greens. It was almost as if it had been trying to imitate a forest, except they were obviously indoors. The room was soothing, though rather large. The four men sat down at the table and began talking about old times, new times, and Hermione. She would join them eventually. 

Hermione walked with Dotty through the large expanse of Herrenhaus, up to the second floor. Dotty was giving her the general overview of the property as they walked down several hallways, but she wasn’t really paying attention. She wanted to see her rooms, get changed, and down to dinner sooner rather than later. Shockingly, she had an appetite. 

Dotty opened the door to Hermione’s rooms, and it was a lot to take in. _Wow._ Her room was all burgundy and tans and creams. There was a fireplace in the center of the room, it’s own island. The walls were a warm burgundy, the shelves and the beframe were a dark mahogany. The duvet, cream-colored with tan accents, was ruched and looked incredibly soft. Hermione found she was rather excited to snuggle into the nest and not emerge for quite some time after this evening was done. She’d had a few trying days. 

She had a large window with a large tan fainting couch in front of it, which would be perfect for her reading spot. Dotty, noticing Hermione had stopped paying attention to her in favor of observing her rooms, appeared out of a closet Hermione had yet to see and dragged Hermione in behind her by the hand. 

“Come now, Miss Hermione. I made these robes for you while you were all researching away in the sitting room. Why the Master insisted it be there, I don’t know. The library would have made more sense. Do you prefer this pink or this blue?” 

“Hmm? Library?!” Dotty chuckled at the light in Hermione’s eyes at the comment. “Oh, erm, I suppose the blue. I don’t find myself to be a fan of pink, to be honest.” 

Dotty simply nodded, filing it away for later. With a snap of her fingers, Hermione stood clad only in her undergarments. She didn’t have more than a moment to be shocked, however, as the little house-elf snapped her fingers once more and the blue robes were wrapped around her snugly. Hermione hadn’t previously had cause to wear formal wizarding robes, but honestly, she could see how they were so popular. She hadn’t seen herself in them yet, but she felt comfortable. She also felt warmer than she had been and supported better than any bra alone had ever managed. 

Dotty snapped her fingers again, and whatever she had done had relaxed Hermione's curls. They fell in ringlets down her back, frizziness gone in a second. “Dotty! How did you do that?! Nothing I’ve tried has calmed the frizz! Nothing! What did you do?” 

“I will teach you tomorrow morning, Miss,’ Dotty said with a smile. “Come, you’re late.” Dotty nudged her in the hip, and showed her a small collection of heels. Hermione chose a pair of golden chunk heels. Slipping them on, she felt the magic resizing them to fit her, and they must have had a built-in cushioning charm. When she stood she felt like she was walking on air. 

“Take my hand and I’ll pop you right outside the dining doors. You’ll learn the castle over the next few weeks,” Dotty’s tone brooked no argument. Hermione smiled at the elf and took her hand gratefully. 

Dotty, true to her word, popped Hermione outside the dining area, and she walked in to find a large table in a too-large room. The gents were all laughing and having a good time. Harry, having noticed her entry first, stopped talking, thus drawing the other’s attention. 

Embarrassingly, all three of them stood upon realizing she’d entered. Harry, she knew, was just coming to greet her, but the other three were acting upon manners bred into them for years. It was polite, and sweet, but hardly necessary. 

“You look lovely, Hermione,” Ollivander commented. “I see Dotty got hold of you. Don’t let her go too far or you’ll never see your jeans again.” 

“That’s a joke, right? These robes are amazing, but I couldn’t possibly wear them all the time. I’m in the habit of getting into trouble because of this one,” she commented, kissing Harry’s cheek, “and these robes don’t deserve to be ruined in such a way.” 

“Afraid not,” Ollivander said, pulling out her chair for her after she had greeted everyone with a peck to the cheek, “Dotty hasn’t had a lady in the house to care for in many years. She’s going to dote on you, and she’s going to make sure you leave this house a proper Ollivander daughter.”

“Harry, you’re taking some of my jeans back with you to Grimmauld for storage. I’m going to need those to face down the next basilisk,” she replied lightly, sipping on her water. 

“Of course,” he replied with a smile and chuckle. 

“You two, why are you being so quiet?” Hermione asked, looking pointedly at Remus and Sirius. 

“You just….” 

“You look like a proper Ollivander now. It was harder to see before, but, with the robes…” 

“And the hair being tamed…” 

“It’s a little disconcerting,” Harry agreed. 

“Ah, but you should get used to it. These robes are very warm and very comfortable. I’m letting Dotty dote to her heart’s content, so you,” she said jutting her chin at Harry, “are smuggling my jeans out. And you, dear uncles, get used to it. I’m going to have to act the part of an Ollivander because I am one. And really, this is going to do nothing but help with my plans,” Hermione commented matter of factly. 

“What do you mean, your plans?” asked Remus, suspicious lacing his voice. He'd seen that look in her eyes a time or two and knew better than to ignore it.

“Really, Remus. Do you honestly think I don’t have plans?” Hermione smirked. 

“Hermione, when you do that you look like Malfoy. Please stop,” Harry whined. 

“Harry, you’re going to have to deal with it,” Hermione replied lovingly. 

“Fine, but only if you tell me said plans.” 

“Sure, eventually.” 

Sirius and Remus watched them parry back and forth, a bemused look on their faces. Remus leaned into Sirius’ side, “They really are brother and sister, aren’t they?” 

“I should say so. They certainly act like it.” 

“Well, I guess I could adopt Potter, too, but he seems far too attached to the two of you,” Ollivander chuckled. 

“Technically they’ve already provoked a familial bond, so that’s not necessary,” Sirius replied with a smile. He was proud of Harry, and how he’d acted when Hermione lost her parents. He refused to leave her at the Burrow alone, knowing it would be too much for her. Hermione had pled to stay at Grimmauld, but she didn’t have much fight in her at the time. Harry had understood and stayed with her. He stayed to protect his family. The Burrow wasn’t a big deal for him, but he knew it would drive Hermione slowly mad. He’d been right. 

“Well good then. The more the merrier, I say!” Ollivander said with a laugh. 

Dotty came into the room and refreshed empty drink glasses, and with a snap of her fingers, their meals were laid out before them. It was simple fare, but none of the people around the table minded. They were simple people who like simple foods.

“Thank you, Dotty,” Hermione said warmly. “And thank your family for us as well. This looks lovely.” Dotty nodded in agreement and then disappeared on the spot once again. She was really good at that, and Hermione found herself wondering if the house-elf would be willing to teach her.

Dinner passed with more conversation and good food than she’d had in a long time. She was just so comfortable around Remus, Sirius, and Harry. Ollivander was a new person in her life, but he was her great grandfather. Her father had always told her he had passed on long before she was born, but it made sense now that she knew. Dad had never been as shocked about finding out Hermione was magical. Not like her Mum was. 

Hermione sighed, cuddling under her duvet with one of the books she’d knicked from Grimmauld. After dinner, Hermione had grabbed three pairs of her jeans and Flooed back to grab Crookshanks. Harry was left with strict instructions to hide away her jeans in his trunk before going to bed because she was going to need those at Hogwarts. 

Since discovering she was actually a Half-Blood, the beginnings of a plan had been forming in her mind to undermine all of Voldemort’s efforts. She’d already taken a step to remove the usage of his three favorite curses, but she knew she would have to do more to turn the tides. She was determined to ensure Harry’s survival, regardless of whatever nefarious plot Voldemort and his followers had up their sleeves. The best way Hermione could think to do that was to cease the recruit of new members. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to reach everyone, but she could do her level best to convince students at her school. She could try to create something more inclusive than the social ladder they had. She could try to eliminate the house rivalries, that honestly, were part of the problem. She wasn’t sure what she was going to be able to do about Slytherin house, but she would find something. She would figure it out. 

She was also going to have to find a way to undermine Dumbledore. The longer Hermione thought about it, the more she realized that she’d gone and taken away Harry’s token Muggle-Born. She was no less clever, no less herself, but it would be painted she was only so gifted with magic because she had been a Half-Blood all along. Regardless of the fact she had been brought up as a Muggle and hadn’t known anything of the Wizarding world until she was eleven years old, Voldemort would paint her as only having such an innate gift because she’d already had magical blood. Yes, that was definitely going to be an issue for the Order of the Phoenix and their agenda, not that she was supposed to know about it. Hermione often wondered if people realized Dumbledore was just as bad as Voldemort in some ways. Both wizards sought to use others to achieve their own ends. It didn’t make it okay that Dumbledore was using Harry because Dumbledore hadn’t split his soul to split Horcruxes, which Hermione was also not supposed to know about. If anything, Hermione mused, it made Dumbledore worse because he didn’t even have the excuse of a fractured soul to blame on the fact he was using children to fight a war. Voldemort was an awful, cold, psychotic bastard, but he had been rejected by Dumbledore and the world of magic. He didn’t have parents. He was abused in an orphanage, arrived at the place he felt for sure he would fit in, and then he was snubbed here too. Hermione could at least see where Tom Riddle had gone wrong, but she couldn’t understand why Dumbledore was so manipulative and willing to hurt those around him.

She supposed it was likely there were things she didn’t understand of his history, but in her mind, Hermione had decided Dumbledore was no better than the dark wizard he opposed. Both of them were terrible in their own ways, and she wouldn’t be a pawn for either of them. Neither would Harry. She knew Sirius and Remus had often disagreed with Dumbledore, especially when it came to Harry, so she was certain she would have them in her corner when the time came. 

Though Hermione knew she would be setting herself up in opposition to both wizards, she would not let her determination falter. She would legally be sixteen later this year, however, due to her use of the time turner she was well over the age of seventeen, and she had never been immature. No, she knew what she was doing, and she was determined to succeed. Getting the parchment to work had been a step in the right direction. That would be useful, indeed.

Hermione sighed and turned off her bedside light. She had been intending to read herself to sleep, but she knew she was going to need plenty of rest for tomorrow. She slid down and closed her eyes, willing her restless mind to relent and allow some sleep. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione awoke with a start, ready to get her day started so she could begin working with Ollivander. No sooner than her feet had touched the floor, Dotty appeared at her side. 

“Come Miss. I will help you get ready for the day,” Dotty said in a quiet voice. She must have sensed Hermione was not a morning person, which was greatly appreciated. Hermione was not a talker in the morning. She needed coffee and food before she could be considered human. 

Hermione sat at a vanity passively as Dotty moved about her rooms. With a snap of her fingers, Hermione’s pajamas had disappeared and she was dressed in a lovely cotton set of robes. They were not, to Hermione’s pleasure, pink, but a deep red. These robes were more casual, better for day to day wear. Dotty snapped her fingers again, pulling Hermione’s still relaxed curls in a do atop her head. Her curls were plaited back out of her face and woven into a crown, while half was left to hang down her back. 

“Thank you Dotty,” Hermione croaked, “Please tell me there is breakfast and coffee.” 

Dotty smiled at her new charge. Happy to be of service, always, but Dotty had definitely missed having a specific charge to care for. Her husband, Alex, had cared for the Master’s more personal needs. “Of course, Miss. Come with me, and we’ll see you set to rights.” 

Hermione gratefully took Dotty’s hand and was pleased to find she appeared at a much smaller table in a far more comfortable room than the night before. It was simply more personal, and Hermione appreciated it. She looked to see there was coffee waiting for her, as well as an assortment of jellies, jam, toast, rashers, eggs, griddle cakes, sausages, fruit, and porridge. 

Hermione happily served herself a small amount of porridge, fruit, eggs, sausage, and her coffee. She tucked in and didn’t utter a sound until she had finished her first cup of the blessed concoction of caffeine. Now, she might be able to function properly. Maybe, possibly. 

She was in the middle of fixing herself another cup when her grandfather came in, greeting her with a smile. “Good morning, Hermione.” 

“Good morning.” 

“Did you sleep well?” 

“I honestly don’t think I ever want to leave that bed. It’s so comfortable.” 

Ollivander chuckled a little at that, “It’s charmed to ensure you’re comfortable. It reacts to the tensions you hold in your body, and softens or firms the mattress as needed.” 

“I love magic,” she said warmly. 

“Me, too.” He said with a smile. “Now, are you ready to delve into the world of wand making? It won’t be the easiest thing you’ve ever done, but something tells me you’re not one to shy away from a challenge.” 

  
Hermione pointed to herself and deadpanned, “Hello, I’m Hermione. I’m a Gryffindor, but I outrank Ravenclaw’s in house standing for grades. I have punched a Slytherin in the face. I thrive on knowledge and prefer not to be bored.” 

Ollivander just chuckled again, “Well if you have enough to eat, and time to wake up, let’s get to work.” 

Hermione smiled at him, affirmed she had indeed had sufficient amounts of both, and Flooed with Ollivander to the wand shop she would one day inherit, to learn the skills she would one day impart to her children and she would use to help defeat the Dark Lord. 


	8. Skills and Implementation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you enjoy this chapter my lovelies! ~VerdeVeritas
> 
> Beta Love to Kate, who had to endure several punctuation errors in this mess. Bless her. :)

They Flooed into Ollivander’s, arriving in a back room which was connected to the small tea parlour she’d been in just a few days ago to discuss her adoption. “Right, well, first let me get the store opened up and then I’ll get you settled in to learn the basics,” Ollivander said cheerily.

“Oh, let me help you. Do you have a morning routine?” Hermione asked.

“Not really. I do most of the maintenance after closing so in the morning I can open up immediately,” he explained.

“Makes sense. I wouldn’t want to get up much earlier, either” she said with a chuckle. “I’m not much for early mornings, as I’m sure you’ve learned. Best not to talk to me until I’ve had some coffee, else I get a bit grumpy.”

“That’s quite alright. There isn’t usually anyone in the store before eleven, anyway,” Ollivander chuckled. He moved through the dark store with practice, flicking the lights on so Hermione could see at last. She didn’t know how he could possibly find his way around all those boxes, but she knew she would fall flat on her face had she tried.

“I’ll get the sign and windows, while you do whatever else you need,” Hermione offered. She walked to the front of the store, pulling the heavy curtains to the side to let in some light, and flipping the sign to “open,” before joining her grandfather behind his counter.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Hmm? Of course, you’re going to be taking over for me one day, after all,” he replied with a smile.

“Is there a reason all of these wands are just sort of…stacked? I mean, do you have them organized a certain way, or is this just how they’ve come to be over the past two hundred years?”

“Oh, well yes and no. See, you’ll learn as you try to fit someone with their wand, that you’ll want to be able to see a clear path to those that might match a witch or wizard’s magical signature. I’m sure there is probably an easier and cleaner way to do it, but this is what’s worked best for me. I found stacking them on shelves resulted in torrents of box avalanches…”

“Ah, okay that makes sense. I’ll think about it. I’m clever, you know?” Hermione teased.

“There was a time when it wasn’t so cluttered, but there are several wands in here which have been around for a hundred years or more waiting for their match. Wands choose the witch or wizard, as you know, so it isn’t like I can be rid of them. Their time will come.”

“I think I can help you come up with something, if you wouldn’t mind me meddling in your shop.”

“Not at all! Please, if it makes it easier to walk around in here, and to clean, I would be most grateful.”

“Then I will think on it further and figure out how to assist,” Hermione said with a grin. “Now, Grandfather Ollivander, impart to me your knowledge!”

Ollivander’s eyes widened  _ almost  _ imperceptibly at the title, but he said nothing. He smiled at his granddaughter, technically great-granddaughter, but that is too many syllables, and motioned her ahead of him toward the back of the store again. “So, you wouldn’t have noticed when you were back here a few days ago, but there’s actually a work room off of the parlor that we use.”

“You mean the red door which says workroom on it?” Hermione queried. She had noticed it the other day, she just hadn’t known she wasn’t supposed to.

“Ah, interesting. Had you said something about it I would have known you were Ollivander by blood. That door is warded against anyone who isn’t family. Sirius or Remus would not have been able to see it. It’s interesting you could see the door, but that I had to adopt you for you to receive the inheritance. Of course, by interesting I mean that it’s got me quite miffed. You were already family and yet unrecognized by the Ministry because of an archaic law.”

“My sentiments, exactly. Give me time, I’ll fix it,” she said with a grin. Hermione Granger-Ollivander was no ordinary witch, to be sure.

“After you, my dear,” Ollivander insisted with a chuckle.

Hermione opened the door and paused. She knew now why the shop seemed so small up front. The work room was enormous. It was stocked with an amazing amount of raw materials. Hermione could see all different kinds of wood cuttings, dragon heartstring, a small amount of phoenix feathers, some unicorn hairs, and what looked like a number of experimental components. There were two workbenches, with runes inscribed into the top of them for what looked like safety and containment. She would have to study them more to be certain. The walls were lined with shelves of ingredients that went from floor to ceiling.

Hermione walked in slowly to what she could only call a laboratory, but it was definitely not for potions or Muggle research. This is where wands had been made for over a hundred years, and she was ready to learn more about it. She knew she would have to start at the beginning, as she had with everything else. However, getting a rudimentary hold on how they were created could help Hermione to set  _ her _ enchantments on the wands in this shop. Enchantments which would disallow the use of the Unforgivable curses, and likely save so many lives.

She turned to Ollivander with a wide smile, “Where do I start?”

“Well, I’m going to teach you how every Ollivander has been taught. Firstly, please hand over your wand. We won’t be using wands in here. Wands are actually made wandlessly, with willed intent. To use your wand while creating a wand would leave too many impressions on the ingredients. It’s a bit hard to learn, but, it’s worth it in the end for so many other reasons. Learning to wandlessly cast and direct your magic has a lot of uses.”

Hermione handed her wand over to Ollivander, who frowned a bit when he touched it. 

“What is it?” She asked.

“I think we might need to find you a new wand, as well. You’ve about outgrown this one,” he said matter of fact.

“Well, I’m over seventeen. I’ve been dealing with a thing or two since I got my wand so I suppose that would make sense,” Hermione mused.

“We’ll see to it we’ve got you a proper fit before you go back at the start of term. In the meantime, this is where we keep our wands when we come in here,” he said gesturing to wand holders next to the doorway. Hermione simply nodded as he secured them, and waited for him to continue.

Walking over to a workbench, he took a seat and motioned for Hermione to do the same. 

“For the time being, you’ll need to read through these texts, but never take them out of this room. They’re warded and attached to this space for their protection. A lot of this is theory, a lot of it is about specific components. Start with the top book and work your way through them. You can take notes if you like,” he said motioning to a stack of parchment, “though I would prefer you encoded them so they can’t be read, if you decide to take them home to study or with you to school.” 

Hermione nodded her assent. She could understand keeping secrets, she had been doing it most of the past six years.

“Are you able to perform any wandless magic, or should we start from the beginning there as well? I know it’s not often taught in school until much later,” Ollivander asked.

Hermione smiled at him widely, motioning with her hand silently causing the first book to levitate open in front of her, and setting it to hover in midair. “I’ve always been able to do this. I don’t know if it’s because of the accidental magic I commonly exhibited, or if wandless magic simply comes easily to me. I’m aware a lot of magical folk can’t do it at all.”

Ollivander smiled at her again. “Then you’ve already got a head start. I’ll leave you to study the materials. Since you’re already able to do wandless magic, you can try to do as the texts instruct, as you come to each instruction. These books are set out in the order in which you should learn them.”

“Thank you. Let me know if you need any help out front,” Hermione trailed off. She’d already pulled parchment and a quill over and began taking notes. Her newly found grandfather felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips, and he left her to work in peace. He had the distinct feeling things were changing all around him, and that witch was at the epicenter. She was bound to do great things, and he wasn’t about to stop her.

He was certain at the rate which the witch devoured information, she would have many questions for him later. He set a timer to go off around lunch time, in the hopes she would emerge to eat with him. Even here, he had heard of Hermione’s study habits. Despite the fact she was beginning her studies several years later than she would have if she’d been raised at Herrenhaus, he had very little doubt Hermione would make quick work of it.

Ollivander left to mind the storefront while she delved into years of family wand lore. Grabbing his wand from beside the door, he was once again reminded she would be needing a new one. While it wasn’t uncommon for a growing witch or wizard to outstrip the wand they’d first purchased, it wasn’t usually until after their graduation they sought him out. Their magical reserves weren’t cemented until after reaching the age of majority, though he did recall Hermione mentioning she was almost seventeen. It would make more sense then, that her magical core had grown, expanded, and otherwise matured. Not to mention, she had been through quite a lot in her short time in the magical world, and with the loss of her parents, it wasn’t an impossible conclusion she’d be in need of a new wand. Such emotional upheaval could affect the use of a wand, much the same as it could change a Patronus. He would need to ask Hermione about that later, he mused. Perhaps if she could cast a Patronus before, and cast one now, he could see if the forms had changed.

Garrick Ollivander’s morning passed slowly, more slowly than it had seemed to the day before. Perhaps it had to do with knowing there was a witch who was hard at her studying in the work room. It was an odd feeling not to be alone in the shop after so many years. He had once been used to the joking and teasing of his sons in this shop at all hours. They would come and go, but there always seemed to be someone else around. After the loss of his family in the first war, he had grown accustomed to being alone. He decided the company was not unwelcome, by any means. He simply had grown used to being lonely. Indeed, it may be why there were so many wands stacked up against the walls, having thrown himself so heavily into his work to stay occupied. Yes, the company would do him some good.

He’d had a few customers today, mainly first years on their way to Hogwarts. It wasn’t uncommon to see a few so early before the start of term, but this was the precursor to the inevitable rush Diagon Alley was to receive in about a weeks’ time. It would be good practice for Hermione to start trying to locate the appropriate wands, should she advance that far by then. 

Just then, the timer sounded on his wand. He sauntered to the front of the shop to flip the sign to closed. He would have normally just worked through his lunch, but having been warned by Sirius and Remus, thought it more prudent to force the voracious witch to take a break. She had apparently been skipping meals, and he would see to it the witch was cared for.

Ollivander entered the work room to a scene he hadn’t entirely expected to find, but he was surely pleased to see. Hermione had already gotten through the first text, and was trying to finish the second. He’d only left her alone for about three hours, and she hadn’t come to ask him any questions. After she finished this one she could start to deconstruct wand components provided she retained them.

“Hermione?” he ventured.

“Hmm?” she mumbled distractedly.

“Why don’t you pause there, so we can go and fetch something to eat?”

Hermione didn’t respond, instead finishing the paragraph she was on and turned to smile at her grandfather. “Honestly, I’m famished. What did you have in mind?” She smoothed her robes as she stood, intent they not be wrinkled from her hours of studying. She had ink stains on her fingers, but that wasn’t new.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asked with a smile.

“How about some Italian?”

“That works for me. Come on, I know a great place.”

Hermione followed Ollivander to the Floo grate which he motioned her into first, before dropping some powder and speaking distinctly, “Zabini Manor!”

Hermione startled, shocked that they would be going to Zabini Manor. Didn’t her grandfather understand that they considered her Muggle-born, and beneath their notice? They were as likely to kill her as they were to feed her! Before she could voice her trepidation at the location, they were already being whisked away in green flames.  _ “I hope they don’t kill me on sight,” _ Hermione thought to herself ruefully.

In a few short moments, she was stumbling out of the grate at Zabini Manor. Hermione didn’t know what to do, so she shot a wary look at her grandfather, intent on following his lead.

“Hermione, you’re not a Muggle-born, anymore? Remember?”

“Indeed, she never was Garrick! You never told me you had a long lost relative!” came the sound of a woman’s voice from the hallway. Hermione looked over toward the voice, seeing an older witch, likely in her sixties. It was hard to gauge the age of a witch or wizard, given the magic inside them slowed the aging process. She was older though. She had a few wrinkles around her eyes, and she had smile lines. Her hair was starting to go grey, and she moved a little slowly.

Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She knew her magical signature had changed as part of the adoption, but she was raised partly in the Muggle world, and she wouldn’t be forgetting that or her parents. 

“Well, Gabby, had I known she wouldn’t have been lost!” Garrick teased her.

“Too true. Hello Miss, I am Gabriella Zabini. I’ve known this lout since our time in Hogwarts together,” she said warmly.

“Erm- Hello. I’m Hermione Granger-Ollivander. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ Hermione replied politely. She was thankful her mother had insisted on manners. “Please call me Hermione.”

“Then you must call me Gabby,” the witch said warmly.

“Hermione, Gabby was a few years below me at Hogwarts, in Slytherin. She will make you some of the most delicious Italian food you’ve ever had. I come here to visit a few times a week, and beg her to feed me,” her grandfather smiled at her reassuringly. Hermione took comfort in the fact he’d known this witch for many years.

“Would you be related to Blaise Zabini by any chance?” Hermione wanted to know. Blaise had never gone out of his way to be rude to her, but he had certainly not been friendly.

“Oh, he’s my grandson. He’s actually here with some of his friends as a last hurrah before they go back to school,” she commented lightly. “Come with me, you’re all skin and bones girly. You need a good meal.”

Hermione looked at Ollivander, wondering who else she would be dining with today. She knew it was going to come out eventually, so she may as well get it over with before the term began. She shrugged at her grandfather, who offered his arm. She tucked her hand delicately into the crook of his elbow and held her head high. She was suddenly awfully glad she had worn proper robes today, not that Dotty would have allowed her to leave the house in anything else. She was a pushy elf, but she had been educating Hermione on some Pureblood customs that she was, unfortunately, going to benefit from today. She hadn’t seen the point in learning them at the time, but she also hadn’t considered the society in which her grandfather kept himself. She knew he was a member of the Order, so hopefully, these people weren’t all bad.

As they followed Gabby through the large doorway, and into the opulently decorated hallway, Hermione couldn’t help but look around. The landscape she saw through the windows she passed was definitely not that of Britain. 

“Where are we?” She queried.

“You’re in Italy, dear. Feel free to come with Garrick when he visits. You could do with some more sun,” the witch offered sweetly.

“Thank you, Gabby,” Hermione said, not accepting, but acknowledging the invitation. “You have a beautiful home.” 

As they neared what must be the dining room, Hermione could hear several boys being quite loud. It sounded less like a fight, and more like the good-natured teasing she was used to hearing in the Gryffindor common room.  _ Well, that’s a bit disconcerting, but I suppose a teenage boy is a teenage boy no matter his house, _ she thought with a mental shrug. She could definitely make out Blaise’s voice. It was hard to miss. He was one of the few people who could manage to keep up with her intellectually, aside from Draco Malfoy and some in the Ravenclaw house. They’d occasionally been paired with one another in classes, and though they’d not made much small talk he could easily keep up with her thought processes.

“Boys! Quiet down, we’ve more guests for lunch,” Gabby remarked upon entering the room. All three boys stood up upon her entrance and proclamation.

“I thought I had heard the Floo. I’m sorry, Nonna, I should have gone to greet them,” Blaise offered.

“Nonsense, Blaise. I took care of it,” Gabby replied as Hermione and Garrick entered the room behind her. “Allow me to introduce Garrick Ollivander, and his granddaughter, Hermione Granger-Ollivander,” Gabby motioned with her had in their direction, and at the mention of her name, all the eyes of Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and Theodore Nott swung to her. Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, as if he could see into her very soul. He was, of course, suspicious. Blaise seemed shocked at her presence, while Theo remained unreadable.

She watched the three wizards in front of her take in her appearance. Her unruly curls had been once again tamed by Dotty, falling in gentle rings down to her bum. She had figured out that letting her hair grow was just better for maintenance, as the weight helped. She was dressed properly and comporting herself like any other witch who would normally run in their circles. Likely, they didn’t know what to make of her now. Honestly, Hermione didn’t care about their personal opinions, but knew it would behoove her to act the part now. It was better for her plans. 

She knew who their fathers were. They were all Death Eaters, and these were all Death Eaters in the making. She didn’t want to dine with these bigots any more than she wanted to be rude to her Grandfather or Gabby. Hermione fought to keep her face impassive. She refused to give them anything to use against her. Grandfather took over for her from there, sensing her unwillingness to progress further into the room.

“Hello lads, it’s good to see you again. I believe you are all in the same class as my granddaughter, here, correct?” The three boys nodded in affirmation. “I hope you don’t mind us crashing your lunch. Hermione wanted some Italian today, and she’s been hard at work,” he said cordially.

“Not to worry, Garrick. You’re always welcome here, as is Hermione. If the boys cannot behave, I’ll be kicking them out,” Gabby threatened. She was rather displeased at the lack of manners these boys were showing the young lady. She’d had a fair hand in raising Blaise, as his mother was often too busy gallivanting around with her newest beau to raise a child. She narrowed her eyes at her grandson, quietly conveying her distaste for his lack of politeness.

Blaise caught her look and snapped to attention as if out of a daydream. His Nonna was not to be trifled with. “Welcome to Zabini Manor. Would you like to come sit with us?”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Zabini, Gabby,” Hermione replied, keeping as much inflection out of her voice as possible. She had known in the back of her mind she would be expected to rub elbows with some of these people, but this was a bit of a trial by fire. She hadn’t had nearly enough practice, and Dotty had only been able to squeeze so much into her. They’d had short lessons, but the elf did not tolerate anything less than perfection. Hermione was grateful for that now. She was not about to let any of the Slytherins before her see the fear she was feeling on her face. She didn’t doubt her Grandfather would protect her, and of course, she had her wand with her, but there was something so surreal about standing in this dining room. Draco Malfoy had been a particular nuisance to her over the years, and she would not be turning her back to him at any point, regardless of her escort.

“You’re very welcome, Miss Granger-Ollivander. Please take a seat wherever you would like. Nonna tends to serve everything all at once,” Blaise offered.

Hermione nodded and allowed her Grandfather to pull her to the chair directly next to Blaise. He pulled the seat out for her and sat next to her. This put her directly across from Draco Malfoy, of course. Theo was sitting across from Blaise. Once she had been seated, the wizards in the room took their seats as well.  _ If they’re this stuffy all the time, I will not be coming back, _ she thought to herself ruefully.

“Would you like something to drink, Miss Granger-Ollivander?” asked Blaise. “We won’t have the wine paired until we know what Nonna is making for us, but we do have water and any other assortment of juices and teas.”

“Tea would be lovely, thank you,” Hermione replied automatically. She hadn’t even considered asking after more coffee, though she could definitely use some.

“Granger wants coffee, not tea,” commented Malfoy. Hermione felt her eyes widen infinitesimally before she could control her face.  _ How does he know what I prefer to drink _ ?

“Oh, we have a very good espresso, if you’d like that?” Blaise offered instead.

“Yes please. I’ve had a busy day,” Hermione remarked politely. She gave a curt nod across the table to Malfoy, which he did not return. “And it’s Granger-Ollivander, though I suppose that’s rather a mouthful…”

“I’m afraid Draco has been referring to you as simply “Granger” for far too long to change that habit,” remarked Blaise. Theo had still not said a word, though he shot an amused smirk at Blaise at the comment.

“It’s too long. You’re Granger. Or Ollivander. Pick one, both names are too long,” Draco drawled.

“Better make it Ollivander then,” Hermione said politely. It was also the longest of her two names, and she knew it would irritate him.

Settling the napkin in her lap primly, she took the shot of espresso Blaise was handing down to her. “Do you take any cream or…,” but before he had finished, she’d thrown the shot back and the espresso was gone.

“Who in their right mind would ruin espresso with cream or sugar?” she remarked blithely.

“Someone who doesn’t know its purpose,” commented Gabby. She was levitating their meal into the dining room from the kitchen with ease.

“Too right,” Blaise agreed. He watched as his Nonna sat down garlic bread, lasagna, fettuccine al burro with crab meat, a large salad, and soup on the table.

Hermione smirked in his general direction, eyeing the food being set down in front of her. She was doing everything she could not to look Malfoy in the eye. She was uncomfortable in his presence, and had been since she’d met him. That didn’t stop her from wanting to deck him like she had the year previous, particularly as he always watched her. She didn’t understand it. She was also fairly sure she didn’t want to know. Hermione snapped her fingers, using wandless magic to send salad to everyone’s plate. She was learning a few things from Dotty.

“You’re getting better at that,” commented Grandfather with a smile. She could hear the pride in his voice.

“Yes, well. It helps when you’ve received proper instruction,” she commented slyly. Garrick simply nodded and touched his nose. A sign they’d discuss it later, no doubt.

“Thank you, dear,” Gabby said sweetly. She levitated the wine down the table, asking indications of who would want red or white. Hermione wanted white wine because she was determined to have the fettuccine for lunch. It looked and smelled amazing. Besides, red wine always managed to give her a headache. She would much rather not have one while trying to work this afternoon.

Hermione mostly ate in silence as Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott discussed the upcoming World Cup. She had virtually no interest in Quidditch. The only reason she knew as much about it as she did was because Harry played. With Gabby and her Grandfather pulled into their own conversation, Hermione ate in silence, rehashing what she had read that morning mentally. Her mind was never idle. She had a wonderful ability to tune out the world when she was deep in thought, and she didn’t hesitate to do so now. She kept one ear on the conversation in case she was mentioned. Unbeknownst to her, the conversation had shifted to that morning’s  _ Daily Prophet. _

“Hello? Granger?” Hermione’s nose scrunched up in irritation at the sound of Malfoy’s voice pulling her out of her mental review.

“It’s Granger-Ollivander. How can I help you Malfoy?” she asked levelly. She had not intended on engaging overlong with any of them.

“I asked if you had read the  _ Prophet _ today?”

Hermione looked up at him from her plate to find him eying her critically. “Not today’s. I tend to avoid it anyway. Skeeter is horrid,” she replied flippantly.

“You’re certainly right about that,” commented Theo. Hermione looked at him and gave a small nod.

“What’s of interest in it today?” Hermione asked, in what she hoped was a pleasant enough voice.

“You. They covered your adoption, and Skeeter apparently dug deeper to discover you already had Ollivander blood,” summarized Blaise.

“Oh, how wonderful. Skeeter actually reported the truth for a change,” Hermione stated sardonically. Theo stifled a laugh at her dry humor, while Blaise and Draco openly smirked. The witch had nothing but disdain for Rita Skeeter, and it was well known throughout Hogwarts. No one could really blame her. Skeeter had been known to poke her nose where it did not belong.

“I’ve been rather busy. Grandfather has a lot to teach,” she supplied.

“The gist of it is that you’ve been adopted and are poised to inherit Olivander’s Wand Shop. It went a bit into family history and how it was discovered you were of the bloodline,” Malfoy summarized.

Hermione shrugged, “It’s probably not all true, but the general gist seems correct. I’m sure she added some sort of scandal to sell papers,” she commented, taking a sip of her wine. The table was shortly cleared of their salad plates and the soup appeared in front of them.

“She can’t help herself,” Theo commented levelly.

“I don’t doubt you’re correct about that,” Hermione said, a smile tugging her lips.

“She was not very kind to Dumbledore,” Gabby added in.

“I don’t feel much sympathy for Dumbledore,” Hermione commented, her eyes flashing and voice hardening. She was suddenly reminded of her theory that he’d known the whole time and was determined to use her as a token Muggle-born witch friend of Harry Potter. “He’s a grown wizard, and I’m sure if I can manage her attention and ire, he’s certainly able to.”

She looked up from her meal to see Draco Malfoy’s eyes flash in irritation while he scoffed. Whether it was at her, or for Dumbledore, she wasn’t entirely sure. She also wasn’t sure she cared. Draco Malfoy had not exactly been the bane of her existence, but nor had he been her friend. She didn’t doubt he was feeling less than friendly toward Dumbledore, because he was a Slytherin. It was no secret Dumbledore was partial to Gryffindor.

“Well then, Princess, you might fit in better than you thought you would,” commented Theo dryly.

Hermione only shrugged, unwilling to commit either way regarding her inclusion into the group of snakes she was currently in. “As long as you don’t call me Princess, we might get along,” she sniped back.

Garrick and Gabby chuckled to the right of her, and the rest of the lunch passed in a similar manner. They snarked back and forth at one another, ate a delicious meal, and said their goodbyes. The three Slytherin’s promised to come to pester her in the shop next week, and take her out to lunch, much to her surprise. Though she didn’t expect them to actually show up. She and her Grandfather took the Floo back to the shop, reopened, and Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon studying.

She had made it halfway through the third book before Ollivander came to collect her to go home for dinner. She was shocked to hear the Floo woosh again, almost immediately after they had arrived back home.

It seemed there was to be a standing dinner date with Remus and Sirius, and that was by far less fraught with tension than her lunch. Hermione told them about her experience at lunch. Her Grandfather and her adopted Uncles explained as best as they could the changes in the demeanor of her former enemies. Hermione was incredibly irritated that simply because she was now a known descendant of the Ollivander line, all descendants of the old school families were likely to treat her similarly. If only they were intelligent enough to understand the concept that if they treated all they encountered with such mutual respect, the Wizarding world would be less fraught in general. It wasn’t hard to treat people with simple courtesy.

Hermione lay in bed, mind whirring with thoughts of all she had read today and all she had experienced. Life was never going to be the same, but she had known that as soon as she’d learned her parents had died. She would simply need to adapt and overcome, as she was so very prone to do. Hermione could not say she was looking forward to going back to school, but she would handle the stares much the same as she always had.

She had come home to post from Ronald and Arthur, once again extending the invitation to attend the World Cup with them, Harry, Ginny, Fred, and George. She thought she might go actually, but only if her Grandfather gave permission and felt she had advanced enough in her studies. She would need to ask him tomorrow and see about getting some hands-on training time with him. She knew he would likely become too busy in the coming days and weeks, with the start of term looming. Hermione let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. Her breathing evened out in a matter of minutes. 


	9. Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's plans begin...

Hermione's week progressed much the same way. She went into the shop and opened it with her Grandfather, and studied. She studied so much that by the third day she had made it through five of the six tomes. She was incessantly pestering her Grandfather with questions.

Her task today was to attempt to take a wand _apart_ , and see if she could do it without damaging any of the components. She was supposed to meet up with the Slytherin bunch for lunch today, though she doubted they would show up.

Over the past several days, Hermione kept making intuitive leaps when it came to making wands. She would pepper her Grandfather with questions, and then suddenly grasp something she had been missing. It had been going on like this for the better part of the week, and her Grandfather often expressed his pleasure at her ability to learn, and apply her knowledge.

Hermione didn't overcomplicate it. There were certain components that simply worked better together than others, and the Ollivander family had spent years comparing notes and combining different components together. She didn't doubt they had done their due diligence, and that alone kept her from going spare. In the beginning, they had even attempted to assemble wands with their own but had discovered it left an impression of their magic on the figured product. As such, they learned to do it all wandlessly. That, Hermione discovered, was the reasoning behind the runes. It dampened the specific magical signature of the caster assembling the wand. It took longer and required a lot more concentration than it would have otherwise, however, the finished wand was always more pliant and amenable to the intended user.

It was tiring, to be sure. Hermione had done more magic wandlessly in the past four days than she ever had as a witch, but as a result, she also felt more in touch with her magic in general. She could tell when her reserves were running low. She could see that attachment between herself and her wand. And now, she was expected to see how to disassemble a wand without harming the components, refresh the core, and put them back together. This was not the easiest assignment Hermione had ever done, however, it was extremely rewarding.

She had learned all about different cores, wand woods, and their attributes. She had also learned that different combinations often yielded different results. A wand was meant to watch with the magical core and personality of its wielder, and as such, there was always bound to be some trial and error with matching a witch or wizard to their suited wand. It was rather interesting, and Hermione had thrown herself headlong into her research. She was fascinated.

The tomes also indicated that no Ollivander ever matched wands to their new owners in quite the same way. When she had asked her Grandfather about this, he had explained that he simply got a "feeling" about a wand being right for a particular person. Of course, the way to test it was to have them wave the wand a bit, and see what happened. Hermione was very interested in this, because just a day ago she had been watching a new first-year get their wand, and Hermione had seen strands of energy from the witch extending out to different wands.

When Hermione related this to her Grandfather, he had indicated that with enough time and practice she may be able to choose wands correctly on the first try. He also told her that she might be able to see bonds between witches and wizards this way if she worked at it. Hermione filed that information away for another day, having plenty to work on as it was. Her Grandfather had kept her very busy.

She had learned how to properly deconstruct a wand, and how to replace cores when necessary. Her Grandfather told her she would be doing this stage for a while before she began to attempt to fashion her own wands together to sell in the shop. He insisted it was tradition for the first wand an Ollivander made to become the wand of the creator, and Hermione wasn't yet ready to commit to a specific wand. She would rather do more research and be sure she had a solid understanding of wand creation.

Creating a wand was not unlike potions work. There were so many variables at play, and part of it was simply intuition and getting a feel for what she was working with. She had time yet, before she needed to be competent at the creation of wands. She did not, however, have too much time in regards to learning how to set her own enchantments on wands. She would essentially be superimposing her will over that of the wand or the wand owner, and that could become tricky.

Hermione and her Grandfather had not gone back to visit Gabby, they were far too busy setting the shop to rights before the pre-term rush. Hermione had been working on her ideas for getting the wands all categorized and filed away, and she was working on it when she took short breaks between studying or after the shop closed. Her Grandfather had wanted to help her, but Hermione insisted on doing it alone, saying it would be good for her to have to touch and catalog every wand in the shop as a means of "making their acquaintance." Grandfather had looked bemused at the notion, but let her go about it her way as long as she promised to explain the way it worked in depth. Hermione had readily agreed.

She had the shop set up nearly overnight it had seemed, and before her Grandfather knew it, all of the stacks of wands were gone. His shop looked so much larger and open, and he had to admit he found it to be a change for the better. More than once when he had been closing up for the night, he had tripped over stacks here or there. That would surely no longer be a problem.

Friday had come and gone, and Hermione had shown her Grandfather how the system she implemented worked for calling up wands when they got a first-year coming to collect their new wand. Her Grandfather was pleased with how simply it worked but knew the charms and enchantments his Granddaughter had put into place had taken a lot of time, energy, and forethought. He was very happy to have her around. She had managed to bring some joy back into his life when he didn't realize it had been missing anymore. He was also less likely to natter at his patrons, likely due to having company more often than not. Sometimes they were joined by her friends for dinner, and sometimes it was just them. Either way, the witch was a boon to his house.

Hermione was inwardly smug at the knowledge that she had guessed correctly about the snakes not coming by to take her to lunch. She had figured it was all smoke and mirrors, and she had been proven correct. Closing up shop Friday night, Hermione said so to her Grandfather.

"I told you they would never want to be seen publicly with me, even if I am a Half-Blood now," Hermione grinned at him.

"You never know. There's plenty of time before term starts for them to come and gather you from the shop."

"They won't. It was said out of politeness and nothing else."

"I guess we will see, won't we, dear Granddaughter," her Grandfather smiled down at her as they were walking back toward the Floo.

"I guess so, Grandfather. I suppose they could prove me wrong. I'm still learning all these new rules," Hermione quipped.

"Yes, though you certainly don't have to on my account, Hermione." Grandfather had been telling Hermione from the very beginning he didn't expect her to forsake how she was raised, or change her personality. Hermione heard him, believed him, and then set about doing it regardless. She knew it would be better to fit in somewhat, to learn the archaic rules, and become more than the best friend of Harry Potter. She could learn the rules to play nice with everyone and turn them. That's what she needed to do because she certainly couldn't trust anyone else to handle what was coming.

Dumbledore had gone on and on about the return of Voldemort and prophecies since Harry was eleven years old, and she had never seen the doddering old fool do anything to attempt the prevention of his return. Well, suffice it to say, after the death of her beloved parents, Hermione wasn't all too interested in learning what Dumbledore may or may not have planned for her future. Instead, she was focusing on creating the future she wanted, while keeping friends alive and intact. A lofty goal, to be sure, but Hermione wasn't one to shy away from a daunting challenge. She'd found out she was a witch when she was eleven years old, and despite suffering severe culture shock, she had thrived. She could do magic better than some who had been raised on the wizarding side of the tracks, so, obviously being raised magical didn't have too much of a say.

Hermione had had to admit though, even if it was in the privacy of her own mind and she would never utter the words aloud, Draco Malfoy had given her a run for her money when it came to being the top of the class. As studious as Hermione was, it was rather impressive. She had never even seen the git study! It was a bit infuriating, but Hermione refused to relent. She would not. She would take top marks again in the fourth year and Draco Malfoy could keep his second place. She would be fine with that.

Dinner was simply fair, while her Grandfather regaled her with some old family tales. Several of them had Hermione laughing so hard tears were leaking from her eyes. She had to say, as far as being adopted goes, Hermione would not have licked out with a better family member unless it had been Sirius and Remus. Ollivander had been wonderful to her. He had never pushed her to be anyone other than who she was, and any changes she had made had been completely of her own volition. She had plans, after all.

That is not to say, however, Hermione didn't miss her parents. She missed them dearly. The crying fits had been coming less often than they had immediately after her parent's deaths, but she tried not to let it bother her. She tried to feel what she felt in the moment, and then let it pass. She had read somewhere that grief functioned like the ocean. Sometimes the tide was low, and sometimes it was high. The grief hit her in waves, and Hermione was doing her best to cope with what she could when it happened. Thankfully she seldom had these fits of grief around anyone else. It was, of course, when she was alone before bed or in the shower when her brain could meander over everything that had happened in the previous months, and how she missed the way her mother smelled when she hugged her, and how her dad had always seemed to be drinking coffee, no matter the time of day.

Dinner had passed pleasantly and Hermione had done her evening lesson with Dotty. This time, it had been about having proper posture, which she had aced. Dotty had pursed her lips as Hermione took several turns about her room with a book on her head, the epitome of grace. A long argument ensued between her and the house elf because Dotty had accused her of cheating somehow. Hermione was indignant at the claim, explaining she had taken ballet as a child and her Mum had always insisted on keeping her back straight. Dotty eventually relented when Hermione huffed and performed a flawless pirouette for her single audience member. Only then had the elf agreed the witch could get some much-needed rest.

Having been excused by her night time niceties tutor, Hermione went about her evening ablutions. She climbed into her bed with a grateful sigh, happy the week was over, and quite excited about her day tomorrow. She was a bit nervous, too. It would be the first time she had seen the Weasley's since Hermione had stormed out in a fit, though thankfully she would be able to avoid Molly for the time being. Hermione couldn't; she was ready to see the interfering woman yet, unwilling to hear apologies, and she certainly would not be willing to grant any amnesty on behalf of Molly Weasley. No, rather not. Hermione was still quite miffed at the treatment she had received from the Weasley matriarch. Her ire for Dumbledore had not yet abated, and it was unlikely to do so. In fact, Hermione often wondered if she would be able to look at her Headmaster without wanting to hex him ever again. Probably not.

Sighing at herself and her incessantly working brain, Hermione started to recount the ingredients in Polyjuice Potion forwards and backward. When she had finished her recitations, she mentally ran through the procedure for brewing the potion, and at some point, she had fallen fast asleep.

Hermione was grateful today was a Saturday. She'd spoken to her Grandfather, and he was perfectly fine with her going to the World Cup with the Weasley's. She was set to meet up with everyone in Diagon later this afternoon to gather all of their school things ahead of time. Apparently, the game could really drag for the World Cup, and last days. Her Grandfather had kindly volunteered to ensure her trunk would make it to the train, should that be the case. Hermione could take it with her, but she didn't feel like worrying about it if she didn't have to.

Hermione decided to dress as befit her new station, mostly because it would reflect well upon her Grandfather and it would also be the perfect opportunity to enact her very sneaky plans. An outing such as the World Cup would draw a lot of Pureblood families, and it would be her first real foray into the public as an Ollivander. 

Hermione had eventually gone through the article Skeeter had written about her. She had nothing nice to say, as per usual, where Hermione was concerned. It was never said outright, though. No Rita Skeeter did far better at hinting her nasty hints and letting the masses come to their own conclusions. She had been perfecting that art for many years, and Hermione wasn't sure how to combat her nastiness yet, but she would be sure to find a way. There was also the possibility that having her slander Hermione in the Prophet now could be turned to Hermione's benefit later, if she could only find a way to do it. Hermione was nearly sure she could, given enough time.

Hermione had not neglected her pursuits to learn from Dotty. She was adopting some of the more Pureblood mannerisms and niceties, but slowly. She wouldn't be thought to be trying too hard. The balance she was going to have to walk would be very delicate, indeed. Too much and she would remain just as ostracized as she had before. If she didn't do enough to assimilate she would be thought to be shirking all of her newfound Pureblood duties. She sighed, exasperated at the prospect. She was resigned to this course of action, however.

Hermione had come into the store with her Grandfather, even though she knew she would be far ahead of the Weasley's and Harry in getting to Diagon. She liked to spend time with her Grandfather and wanted to help him open the shop. She knew better than to start back into her assigned reading today, though. As soon as she fell back into her research mode she would absolutely miss out on this time with her friends, as she would likely ignore them when they came to collect her.

To keep herself busy, Hermione flitted about the storefront, putting some final touches on her wand indexing system. She had created it just for Ollivander's. The system would respond to the commands of the wandmaker to bring forth the specified wands which might call to a witch or wizard. All magical signatures were unique, and the wands which might suit them were just as varied.

All of the wands were neatly cataloged in a magically enhanced set of cabinets. The cabinets were linked to the area behind the front desk, so, no more dangerous and unruly stacks of wand boxes strewn about the store. It was as clean as she had ever seen it, and with the tripping hazard managed, it seemed to increase in size. Pulse, there would be no way to knick a wand. The only way to access the store of wands was with the Ollivander magic, and nothing else would suffice.

"Hermione, the shop looks perfect! Stop fussing," her Grandfather advised.

"Yes, Grandfather. I apologize, but I am rather ill-suited to a state of idleness," Hermione grinned at him.

"I'm sure they will be here on time. Why not take a seat, and help the next few customers who come into the store? I think you could try matching someone to their wand. You have a solid grasp of the theory, and I'll be here if you get stumped," her offered with a grin.

Hermione's eyes were alight with excitement at the prospect. "I would love that!"

She had mostly been doing all of her projects in the back, eager to learn as much as possible. She had watched her Grandfather pair a few new students but hadn't actually done it herself yet. She would very much enjoy finding the wand match for a witch or a wizard. Hermione remembered what that moment had been like for her when she received her first wand. The idea of giving that to someone else? That would be amazing.

Her Grandfather chuckled at Hermione's excitement, " I thought you may! I'm going to go and grab some tea. Mind the store, then, and holler if you need anything." He winked at her conspiratorially before leaving the front desk area and making his way to the parlor.

Hermione took the seat her Grandfather had recently vacated and waited anxiously for a customer to come inside. In the meantime, she could study the old ledgers. She quite liked the idea of finding out how much she actually knew. Knowledge and research often differed from practical application. She had figured that out early in her quest to know everything she could about magic.

Hermione had lost herself in studying the old ledgers, which marked down which wands witches and wizards had been paired with. There were so many records, she doubted she could commit them to memory. The bell above the door chime sang out to announce a visitor, and Hermione looked up from her ledger with a smile.

Before her, stood none other than Draco Malfoy. Her smile slipped a bit, as they eyed one another in a bit of shock. It wasn't entirely rare for a witch or wizard to need a new wand. Sometimes they broke due to an accident, and sometimes it was discovered the wand was not a good fit after some kind of emotional upheaval on the part of the wand bearer. Generally, witches and wizards took very good care of their wands, though. Their wands were an extension of themselves, so it was odd to see Draco Malfoy in front of her.

Hermione remembered herself, clearing her throat lightly before she addressed him. "How can we help you today, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Er- Hello Miss Granger-Ollivander. I seem to have broken my wand. I could use a new one before term starts," he replied, with a sheepish look on his face.

Hermione gave him her best professional smile. "Of course, I can help you with that. Up! On the platform to get your measurements, if you please." She said gesturing to an area off to her left.

Draco nodded, looking around the shop as he stepped up on the platform. Hermione grabbed the enchanted tape measure from the countertop and walked over to him. With a wave of her wand, she took his measurements, which were automatically recorded in the ledger behind the counter.

"The shop looks nice. Your influence, I take it?" Malfoy asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Hermione met his eye and smirked. "I've never been one for mess. My Grandfather allowed me to do a bit of tidying."

"I can see that. It looks more homey, somehow."

"Thank you," she accepted with a nod of her head. "Okay, follow me, please."

Hermione glided back behind the counter and checked his measurements. Placing her hand on the countertop, she called several wands out of storage that seemed interested in the wizards magical signature.

"What was your old wand? It will help me to determine a good match for you," she explained.

"It was a hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches," he supplied.

Hermione pursed her lips in a moue. A hawthorn wand with unicorn hair would not suggest a wizard prone to the Dark Arts. Hermione found that to be very interesting, indeed. She stole a glance at the wizard standing before her, interest plain on her face. She would have to file this information away for later. Hermione followed the blue strips of magic extending from Malfoy's magical core and pulled several wands to try. She wondered what he would end up with, this time.

"Try this one. It's a dogwood and unicorn hair, ten and a half inches," she said handing it to him. Draco flicked the wand, and it emitted some sparks, but it didn't seem to have found it's home.

"Hmm. No. Let's try this one instead." Hermione handed him another wand and took it back nearly immediately. "No, not that one either. How about this?"

Draco had a bemused look about him. No doubt being fitted for a replacement wand by his former nemesis would be rather hilarious from his standpoint. Draco wrapped his fingers around the wand, and she could tell this would be the right one. He flicked the wand, and golden sparks emitted from the tip.

"This feels good," he said with a pleased smile.

"It likes you. What you have here is a cedarwood and dragon heartstring wand, eleven inches. I believe, as the old adage goes, the wand chooses the wizard. Are you happy with this one?"

"It feels good in my hand. Can you tell me a little about it?"

"Certainly. Cedarwood wands generally belong to those who are loyal, possess strength of character, and are shrewd in their judgments of others. The dragon heartstring core is, of course, the most powerful, but can be a bit temperamental. If I might suggest such a thing, practice with it a bit before we return to school. It will not be easily won to you, but it will not do you a disservice once it has been," Hermione rattled off quickly. This wand seemed to suit him just fine. Loyal, check. Shrewd, check. There had never been any doubt in Hermione's mind that Draco was an intelligent and powerful caster.

"Thank you. I will do that. The requisite twenty galleons?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled at him.

Draco passed over the galleons to her, and Hermione tallied everything in the ledger for her Grandfather. With a wave of her hand, she banished the rest of the wands back to their homes, for now.

"You seem to really have a knack for this," Draco commented.

Hermione looked up at him and smirked, "Well, of course, I'm an Ollivander."

Draco chuckled lightly and slid his new wand into his holster. "I'm meeting my mates for lunch, would you like to come and dine with us? We did promise you a meal."

Hermione was taken aback by the invitation. She cast a quick tempus, and seeing it was only half eleven, saw no reason not to go to lunch with the snakes. Aside from the fact they were snakes, that is. Her friends weren't due to arrive until nearly one, so that should be plenty of time.

Hermione flashed a smile at Malfoy and replied, "Sure. Give me just a moment to let Grandfather know I'm not going to be minding the shop. A witch needs to eat."

"Of course, I'll wait for you out front," Malfoy replied with a smile of his own and left the shop. Hermione went to the parlor to inform her Grandfather she had been invited to lunch by Draco Malfoy.

"Well, I'll be. I can't believe they followed through. By all means, go and get some lunch. I've got the shop. What did he need to stop by here for?"

"He broke his wand, somehow, I didn't ask. I thought it would be unprofessional to snoop," Hermione supplied.

"Interesting. What did he end up with?"

"A cedarwood and dragon heartstring, eleven inches."

"That's quite interesting, but seems to suit him. I'll see you in a bit dear, go and get something to eat. I told you they might surprise you," he said with a knowing smirk.

"Thanks, Grandfather," Hermione rolled her eyes but grinned at him. "I'll see you soon!"

Hermione grabbed her small bag and transfigured it to match her robes, adding a strap for good measure. Since she was in casual witch's robes, she didn't have any pockets. Checking to make sure her wand was firmly in its holster, she left the shop to dine with the serpents. This would be interesting, of that she had no doubt.

Hermione emerged from the front of the shop to find Draco Malfoy waiting for her, just like he said he would. When she opened the door, he had turned around to face her. "Hey. Ready to go?"

He smirked at her, "Of course, Granger. I was waiting on you, remember?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "I am aware, and it isn't as if you were waiting for long. Where are we going?"

Draco extended his arm for her, and Hermione dutifully tucked her hand daintily into the crook of his elbow. "There's a new place; it's called Caro Tesero. It's an Italian establishment, so naturally, Zabini must test it out. Of course, he will only be disappointed and will likely dress down the chef for his incompetent cooking methods."

"Mr. Malfoy, did you just make a joke?"

"I may have, Granger."

"Stop calling me Granger. If the last name is too confusing for you, stick to Hermione," she snarked at him.

"Did you just make a joke?"

"Not at all. I am simply aware that you're easily confused. Evidence suggests my supposition is correct because here you are escorting me to lunch. With your friends. In public, no less."

"Ah, well. Things change, _Hermione,"_ Draco replied with a chuckle. Hermione looked over at him and smiled, and of course, a flash of light went off not too far away.

"Lovely. Media darling, yet again!" Hermione commented bitterly. She fought to keep the smile on her face, though, as it wouldn't do for the _Prophet_ to have actual evidence of her hexing cameramen.

"I think tomorrow's paper will be rather interesting," Draco said, sneering at the photographer. It was nice not to have his trademark sneer directed at her, for a change.

"Unfortunately paparazzi are all a part of this circus," Hermione commented sagely, face turning serious.

"Papa-what? What's a circus?" Draco asked, looking over at her. Confusion was evident in the furrowed eyebrows. Hermione took particular notice of his eyes, grey and alight with the query.

"It's a Muggle thing. Paparazzi is a term for photographers who often trail their prey rather doggedly. They're not journalists, they're all like Skeeter. A circus is essentially a big...party, with a tent and games and animals. Maybe I'll take you sometime," she waved her free hand around her as if to say it wasn't important, "but Muggles often refer to something as being a circus when it's a mess. A complete cock-up. A total disaster," Hermione explained kindly. She had forgotten who she was speaking to.

She had also completely forgotten to pay attention to her surroundings. They were being watched, rather pointedly, by anyone in the Alley who could see them. She looked away from Draco to see they were nearing the restaurant. They still had a fair way to go, though there was a crowd gathering on the street, much to Hermione's irritation.

"I see," Draco commented, "so Skeeter and her minions would be the paparazzi, and the circus would be this?" Draco asked, waving his hand around him.

"Inclusively, yes. This is all a circus," Hermione said with a chuckle. "It really is ridiculous. Is it like this all the time? Can you really not go to lunch with your friends without being gaped at and followed by cameras?" Hermione asked him, seriously. This was something she had not been prepared for. She and her Grandfather spent their time in the shop, or at home. They didn't go out often at all.

"Well, yes and no. I am a Malfoy, and you are Hermione Granger. Best friend to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. News has broken of your adoption and parentage, but, this is rather a spectacle for them," Draco replied seriously.

"So it's not that it's you, it's that it's you and I taking a leisurely stroll to a restaurant?"

"Got it in one. The Wizarding world is small, and you are...different now. Just wait until school starts," Draco grinned.

"I'm actually rather dreading it," Hermione said honestly. "Why are you being so nice to me, anyway? I'm just Potter's mudblood, right?"

Draco didn't speak for a moment, and she could see his face had closed down while he was in thought. His eyes were bright with something that Hermione could not name, but she felt she would be alright on a very public and crowded street in Diagon. She inwardly howled in triumph while she fought to keep her facial expression confused, and wounded. Some of the hurt was real, though Hermione had a very specific intention behind the question. She wanted to make Draco Malfoy and all of his friends think for themselves, for a change. So what if she had to play the part of an ignorant newbie to do it? Hermione would do anything for Harry.

They were nearing the restaurant and Hermione was beginning to wonder if she had overplayed her hand, when Draco cleared his throat, "I think you will find you have a rather difficult tightrope to walk, though I think you'll manage it just fine. I will say this now, to you, because I am able to do so. I have never been permitted to be nice to you. I could not show you kindness, even if I had wanted to. There are things...that are expected of me and I have no choice but to live up to those expectations. I am sorry, truly, for calling you...that."

Hermione took a moment to gather her thoughts, while Draco led her inside the restaurant and told the host the name of the reservation. She had an inkling, of course, that Draco Malfoy and all other purebloods had a strict set of rules to follow. That was only confirmed after she had begun her training with Dotty. Whilst she was thinking, the host was showing them to their table, Malfoy guiding her with his hand on the small of her back. Hermione also found that move interesting but decided to file that away for later.

Hermione paused before sitting at the table, turning to look Malfoy in the face. "I'll make you a deal, Mr. Malfoy. I'll give you a clean slate, if you never utter that slur again, even in anger. I will forget the slight against my person, against my house and family. I will offer forgiveness instead of strife because you were a hateful child. A child brought up to hate and fear Muggle-borns, no doubt. Pretend we've never met, because we haven't really, and treat me like anyone else you're allowed to speak to. Show some of this Draco Malfoy at school, be this person, within reason to your self preservationist ideals, and I will forgive you."

Malfoy looked stunned. Polite, concerned, and considering her words. His grey eyes were a tempest, just waiting to cut loose his thoughts and emotions, while his face remained placid. You could throw a boulder at it, and Hermione was fairly certain you'd not see a hint of a ripple. "Think on it, if you must," Hermione granted, turning to see the others looking at them.

Hermione didn't let on as she allowed Draco to push in her chair for her, annoyed that they stood when she had approached the table. Such an out of date mindset, but, they believed they were being polite. _This is how they were raised, Hermione, it's not as if you're their best mate._ Hermione smiled at everyone and told their waiter she would be having water for the moment until she decided on a meal. Draco sat down next to her, still rather taken aback by her proposition if his face was any indication.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long, mate," Blaise commented, looking over the menu. "I see you've brought us a Gryffindor to dine with."

"Hush, or I'll sick Gabby on you," Hermione teased lowly with a smirk.

Blaise blanched at the idea of his Nonna hearing about any sort of mistreatment towards a witch on his part. He was seemingly amused at her antics, however, because he snarked, "Why do you seek to destroy me?"

Hermione looked up at him innocently, "Why, I'm only taking Gabby's advice. She explicitly told me to come to her should you misbehave in regard to my person." Theo, thus far, had been quiet but was failing at concealing his laughter at Hermione's remark.

"Alright there, Nott? Has something untoward transpired?" Hermione queried, shooting her innocent look in his direction, placing her menu on the table in front of her.

"Not at all. How are you today, Miss Granger-Ollivander?"

"Tsk, tsk, Theo. Didn't we discuss this last time? It's Hermione," she said with a mock frown.

"Oh of course, how could I forget? So sorry, Hermione," Theo soothed.

"Far be it from me to dissuade you of that notion. Granger-Ollivander is simply too many syllables for me," Blaise commented blithely.

"I am inclined to agree with you, though it has sentimental value," Hermione said, a little more testily than she had intended. Hermione felt a pang in her chest at the thought of her parents but fought the urge to cry away. She would not cry in public, and especially not in front of these wizards.

Blaise cleared his throat, "Sorry Hermione, I didn't mean to upset you."

Hermione looked at Blaise with a wan smile, seeing that he did appear to be genuine in his sentiments. "It's alright." Hermione knew she had a way in, there. Now was not the time, but she filed this instance to bring up with him later.

Draco Malfoy, of all people, was the one to put a hand on hers, consolingly. Hermione looked over to him, a question plastered all over her features. Had she not been studying him for his intentions, she would have missed the subtle nod he had given her. Hermione smiled at him, genuinely, for the first time.

Maybe her plans were not so daft after all. Maybe, just maybe, they would work. Maybe all these people needed was a chance to be forgiven, to change, to be different. Hermione and Draco were so focused on the silent affirmation of her deal, they didn't notice the expressions of the others with them at the table. Theo and Blaise eyed them searchingly, trying to discover what had just happened right in front of them. They shared a look with one another, before masking their faces once again as the waiter sauntered up to their table.

"Now then, do you lot know what you would like to order today?"

Draco squeezed her hand lightly, before pulling his hand back to his menu. Hermione was inwardly dancing. She was jumping up and down. She was ecstatic at her ability to plan things. She was beside herself with joy, but she reminded herself she had two more snakes to woo before this lunch was over. She was determined to plant the seeds of doubt before the plates were cleared, and anyone he knew Hermione Granger-Ollivander knew better than to get in her way when she was on a mission.


	10. Civil Unrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The World Cup!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't seen a beta yet...but I'm going to post the chapter anyway. I'll revise once I get a chance to edit things that need it. :) Let me know how you feel about the chapter lovelies! ;)

Hermione had spent a pleasant lunch with the snakes. They teased and joked with one another about things she had no knowledge of, but they often would give her backstory and Hermione would laugh along with them. They gave her many insights into the life of a Pureblooded child, and Hermione had to say she did not envy their upbringing.

Of course, she was suffering for it now. Dotty was cramming so much information into her mind during her nightly lessons that if Hermione had not always been an excellent student, she was not sure she could have retained it all. She was going to be very busy for the foreseeable future, but some part of her had expected that the moment she had found herself to be the best friend of Harry Potter.

No one brought up the past, or how things would be so very sideways from what they knew when they returned to school this term. Instead, they talked about what they would like to do after Hogwarts. Evidently, Blaise was intending to live off the galleons in his bank account for at least a year after graduation and do nothing for a time. Theo had been curious about going into Curse Breaking, or perhaps magical law. Draco had expressed interest in gaining a Potions Mastery as well as learning to be a Healer. Hermione could certainly have never seen any of them coming.

They were all good pursuits, but even as they sat and talked about their dreams, Hermione wasn’t sure any of them would ever see these dreams come to fruition. They were as trapped in their Pureblood legacies as she had been in the idea that she was a Muggle-born and would always be lesser. She had always known she was not lesser, simply other than what they decreed to be pure. And she had constantly proven their misconceptions to be false, she was doing so even now.

There was a saying that actions spoke louder than words, and Hermione was a big believer in that. Actions and results were important. What did it matter if you tried something new and failed, if you kept at it until you succeeded? The persistence was key, and success was the result. Hermione thought to herself that she would enjoy those sitting at this table with her to be able to chase down their dreams, much as she was free to do. She found herself adding in another goal altogether to her already labyrinthine plan of attack.

Before she knew it, their meal had come to a close, as had their time together. She needed to go and meet Harry and the Weasley clan. Hermione pulled her wand from the sleeve of her dress robes and cast a silent _tempus._ Bugger! She was due to meet them in front of the shop at any moment!

“I’m afraid I must take my leave. I have plans this evening,” Hermione remarked cordially to her tablemates.

“Quite alright. We enjoyed having you along for lunch, even if you are a Gryff,” teased Blaise.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Yes, yes, I’m a lion. You’ll eventually get over your house prejudices. One day. Then you’ll regret all the teasing. I could be helping your grades, you know?” Hermione winked at Blaise, who just laughed.

She did not notice the narrowed grey eyes directed across the table at Blaise. Hermione said her goodbyes to Theo, who promised he would take her up on the study sessions they had discussed earlier.

“Let me escort you back to your shop,” Draco offered his arm.

“You are aware of who I am going to meet right now, aren’t you?” Hermione hesitated. There was no love lost between the Malfoy’s and Weasley’s. Hermione didn’t understand what the bad blood was about, because the Weasley’s were as pure of blood as the Malfoy clan. It could be they were blood traitors, but Hermione had always felt the feud to be far more personal in nature.

“I do. Have no fear, witch, I can hold my tongue long enough to simply drop you off,” Draco assured her. Hermione doubted that but decided against speaking it aloud.

“It’s not your tongue I’m concerned for. They are a rowdy bunch, you know?” Hermione replied, tucking her elbow into his arm. He had offered, and it would be rude to refuse. Besides, it was considered polite for him to drop her back off to her Grandfather according to etiquette. Hermione thought the etiquette antiquated and a bit insulting, but it was all they knew.

“I’m aware. I think I will make it. It’s my duty to see you back home,” Draco replied kindly. Hermione just nodded at him.

“I had fun with you all at lunch,” she remarked.

“I think we all had more fun with you than we expected to,” Draco commented honestly.

Hermione chanced a look at him from the corner of her eye, but he was looking ahead to find them a clear path from the restaurant to the wand shop. He was being honest with her, so she would return the favor.

“I almost thought it was a prank you were pulling on me. It was nice though, even if I’ve been dosed with some slow-acting poison. I usually carry a bezoar, just in case,” she winked as she turned her head to look at him fully in the face.

Draco looked offended at first and then started to laugh. It was a deep belly laugh, the kind you only seem to accomplish when you are surprised into humor. He didn’t seem to notice the other witches and wizards turning to give them their attention, but Hermione did. She could even understand it. Draco Malfoy had a wonderful laugh when he was unguarded.

“You’ve not been poisoned with anything, Merlin! We aren’t so brave as all that. We’re snakes. If we were going to kill you, we would have done so away from prying eyes,” he replied, mirth still lighting up his face.

Hermione squeezed his arm with her hand, ever so slightly. She was glad to see there was some life inside Draco Malfoy. He had most definitely harmed her as a child. Not physically, but he had hurt her emotionally. Hermione did not know what to be about the fact now, as it did seem rather relate to go back and undo several years of snide comments and menacing smirks. He had wished for her death once at the fang of the Basilisk, but she couldn’t fault a child for uttering childish things. She had not been much better, not really.

After becoming privy to hearing some of the stories told at lunch, Hermione was made perfectly aware of the situations these boys had grown up in. There wasn’t much to be done for someone who was raised to hate for hatreds sake. They feared what they did not know, though the same could be said of Muggles too. It was funny to Hermione, given the fact that they feared humans who would hunt them down with a pitchfork simply for being different, but the mark of what made them so proud was they themselves were considered to be other by a population much larger than their own. Fear was the source of prejudice and hatred, and really, there wasn’t much to fear at all.

Perhaps there could be more to the treatment of Muggle-born witches and wizards, but if there was Hermione was not sure what it was. She had heard it uttered they posed a safety risk to the Wizarding world due to the Statute of Secrecy. She was not sure she agreed. Most who entered the Wizarding world did not leave, and only those who were closest to them were told of their magical gifts. Usually it was only the parents who knew, unless there were siblings. It wasn’t a common practice to go gallivanting around in Muggle London telling any and everyone who crossed your path that you could levitate a feather or fly on a broom. No, Hermione kept her magical skills a secret. She hadn’t even told her parents everything when they had been alive. It had been too dangerous.

“Note to self: do not follow Draco or any other snakes into dark alleys or alcoves this year,” she mumbled lowly.

There were several journalists running about, snapping photos of them walking arm and arm down Diagon Alley. Hermione paid them no mind. Draco laughed at her grumbling.

“I don’t think you’ve got anything to fear from us, Princess. You’re a Gryffindor, so we’re going to have to tease you some for posterities sake. We aren’t going to harm you though. You’re rare and precious in this world now, Granger.”

“Granger-Ollivander,” she smirked at him.

“Ugh, that’s too many syllables! I keep telling you!”

“Hermione, then.”

Draco looked shocked at her willingness to allow him to call her by her given name. It showed familiarity and friendship. Perhaps it was different among the Gryffindor house, but Slytherin housemates did not call each other by first name most of the time. There was too much intrigue and plotting going on to really account for anyone as a friend.

“Then you must call me Draco,” he replied kindly.

“Draco it is. At least you’ll know when I’m insulting you if I stand with Harry and Ron. They’ll always call you Malfoy,” Hermione teased.

“Are you sure you can’t switch houses?” Draco smirked at her.

“I would rather not. I have a family there, after all,” she said sweetly.

“Alright then, Hermione. I have delivered you safely back to your shop. Please do your best not to be hexed the moment I leave you for being seen speaking with me in public by your friends,” he commented stopping them in front of the door. Hermione had not at all been paying close attention to her surroundings as he walked her back to the wand shop. She was enjoying the conversation, instead.

Draco untucked her left hand from the crook of his elbow and raised it gently to place a kiss upon the back of it. Hermione had not been expecting that, at all. According to Dotty, it was a mark of respect and interest by the person doing the kissing. It was a simple statement that could mean anything from he respected her as a person to him being interested in her romantically, one day. Hermione chose to file this away for later, along with the look in his eyes she could not decipher.

As fortune would have it, at just the moment Draco was placing his lips on the back of her hand, her group of friends appeared from inside the shop. It was Harry who stood flabbergasted in the doorway. Ron was behind him, his face going an unpleasant shade of puce. Ginny stood to the side and back, not forgetting that the elder Malfoy was the one to slip Tom Riddle’s diary into her cauldron in her first year. Arthur said nothing, but the twins were grinning, and that generally meant trouble.

“You should saunter off now, Draco. The twins are looking rather predatory, and they do consider themselves my family,” Hermione snarked playfully.

Draco stood and released her hand gently, eyes darting over the crowd in the shop front. He nodded to Hermione politely and took off back towards the heart of Diagon Alley.

“WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT HERMIONE?!” Ron screamed at her as soon as she had closed the shop door behind her.

Hermione looked at Ron coolly, unwilling to let him get a rise out of her for doing nothing wrong. “He was dropping me off after lunch, that’s all.” She walked around the group, unhurried, and collected the bag she planned to take with her to the World Cup.

“That’s all? THAT’S ALL?!”

“Really, Ronald. There is no need to shout. I’m perfectly fine. Lunch with Draco, Blaise, and Theo was lovely. Blaise’s grandmother is a good friend of my Grandfather’s, so I ran into them the other day when we went for lunch. “ Hermione shrugged, not about to explain more than that. The fact her Paterfamilias had no issue with where she had been during lunch was enough for her.

“Hermione – “

“Do you mean to say – “

“That you’ve just returned- “

“From lunch with not one,”

“but three snakes?” asked Fred and George. Hermione had eventually gotten used to the way they finished one another’s sentences.

“Yes, and I had a nice time. Thank you. Are we ready to go now?” Hermione asked Mr. Weasley with a smile.

Arthur met her eyes, but he looked worried for her. “Hermione, what were you doing out to lunch with them?”

“Harry, I just explained that. I ran into them with my Grandfather, and they invited me to lunch. It was nice. The food was great. The conversation was lovely. Now, aren’t we supposed to be catching a Portkey or something?”

Hermione was doing what she could to deflect attention from her back onto the World Cup. She would much rather they left this _particular_ issue alone. The Weasley’s didn’t hold to a lot of the Pureblood teachings, but she knew that Arthur knew the way things had been done for hundreds of years. If your family was friends with another family, you were generally expected to be polite and get along with one another. He couldn’t fault Hermione for her choices, not when they made sense. He didn’t have to like them, of course, but he couldn’t fault her either. Not when he knew the rules.

“Leave it, boys, let’s go. We’re going to be late, and I would rather not miss the World Cup,” Arthur said with a forced brightness.

Oh no, he did not like what she was doing at all. Hermione could care less. He had apologized, sure, _after_ his wife and Dumbledore had meddled in her life. That wasn’t enough. Hermione ignored the grumbles of everyone around her, smiled and linked arms with Ginny, and joined the large troop of them.

They had things to buy and a Portkey to catch. She wasn’t exactly happy about the Quidditch part, but she was glad to see her friends. Even if her friends were currently being prats. Unfortunately, Hermione was used to them being prats.

She had already purchased everything she needed to take with her back to school this term, so she wandered through the stores they visited and made happy chatter with Ginny about this and that. Eventually, everyone had gotten what they needed, and Hermione was pleasantly surprised they had not been intending to go back to the Burrow for the night but were instead headed straight to the Ministry to grab their Portkey and set up camp.

That suited Hermione just fine. The last thing she wanted to do right now, was deal with Molly Weasley. Especially given that she and Draco were sure to be in the Prophet tomorrow for deigning to walk down the street together. Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes as they waited in the room for the Portkey to activate. At least they had a separate room and Portkey. People who were traveling in smaller groups were stuck with people they did not know. No, thank you.

Draco was not brought up again, and Hermione found herself pleased by this. Ginny had shot her a questioning glance or two, but Hermione just shook her head. She knew better than to try to talk about it around the others. Harry, Fred, George, and Ginny had handled it just fine, or at least, had contained their rage long enough it had simply become disbelief and confusion. Hermione could work with those emotions, but she did not want to listen to Ronald rant and rave. His ire was ridiculous, and she was not in the mood to placate the ginger’s fury. Fury he had not earned, by the way.

Ginny had seemingly understood because she hadn’t brought it up again until they were wandering the camping ground outside of the World Cup. The tents seemed to go on for miles, and there was much to see. Mr. Weasley had warned them not to go too far, but they had been wandering between the tents and ended up on the crest of a hill overlooking the encampment. They were far from their tent, but Hermione was not worried.

Once or twice, she had been stopped by those she walked past. There were many questions about her heritage and if it were true she was now an Ollivander. She answered them honestly and moved on. She did not like all the attention which had been pointed at her lately, but she knew after her lunch today it would likely get worse before it got better. If it ever got better. Somehow Hermione doubted it would. The air was thick with tension and excitement, like something was coming. Hermione chalked it up to people waiting for the game to begin tomorrow morning.

“So, are you going to tell me what having lunch with the snakes was all about, Mi?” Ginny poked Hermione in the side.

Hermione sighed, “I wasn’t lying before. The Zabini’s are friends of my Grandfather. Where Blaise goes, often you will find Draco and Theo. It was just a lunch. We sat and chatted and ate food. It wasn’t any different than when we all hang out together.”

Ginny gave her a look of disbelief, “Okay. I can’t believe Malfoy has a decent bone in his body, but if it’s as you say, then I can understand that. I guess. I don’t know why he was walking you back to the shop though, or why he was kissing your hand. That’s something that hasn’t been done for a long time.”

“It’s still done in the Pureblood circles. It’s antiquated and annoying but, I am the heir to the house of Ollivander, and I’m doing my best. Some of it is nice. Chivalrous, even. I don’t need anyone to fight my battles or open my door for me, but I will say it’s nice being around people who have manners when they eat,” Hermione snarked.

“Yes, well. I live with my brother, so I can understand the sentiment,” Ginny agreed. “I just don’t get what you’re trying to do here. Are you trying to fit into the mold they’ve made for Pureblood women? Because really Mi, it could never hold you,” Ginny said with a smile.

“I will take that as a compliment. And no, Gin, it isn’t that. I’m going to be taking over for my Grandfather. I’m trying to make this transition to the idea of me as his heir easier rather than harder. Sometimes you have to go with the grain first,” Hermione explained. She couldn’t tell Ginny everything. She would not, knowing she still lived with her mother, and Dumbledore was often there. Ginny didn’t have anything to protect her from his legillimancy. Hermione had spent a lot of time learning to do just that.

How could Hermione tell Ginny she didn’t trust Dumbledore when it would inevitably be read from her mind. She certainly couldn’t confess her plans, not even to Ginny. She couldn’t tell Harry, either. Ronald had too large of a mouth to be trusted with anything delicate. No, there was not a soul she could utter her thoughts and plans to, aside from Dotty. Dotty understood.

One night, Hermione and Dotty had been working together on her Pureblood etiquette, and Dotty asked Hermione why she was so interested in doing any of this. Hermione knew that her Grandfather would not expect for her to toe the line and manage all the pomp and circumstance. It was because of this Hermione had wanted to make the effort. And to undermine Dumbledore at every turn. She wanted to unite Hogwarts. She didn’t want Dumbledore to use Harry or herself for his “greater good,” anymore.

Dotty had looked at her with such maliciousness that for a moment she was terrified. Dotty’s grin was feral, and vicious in a way that she’d never seen on an elf’s face. Hermione had seen it in a book once though. Dotty wasn’t a house elf at all, she was a brownie. Hermione had adored all kinds of folklore when she was young, and she had liked brownies. A brownie is a creature said to come out only at night while the owners of a house are asleep to do various household chores. Often the payment for brownie service is just some simple fare like milk and honey with a piece of bread. The brownie may choose to stay in a home, or provide one night of service as a thank you for something that's been done for them. They're small, brown creatures, sometimes furry, and humanoid, often no more than three feet tall, and often described as rotund and wrinkly. They are usually described as naked or wearing only rags. It's believed if you give a brownie clothing, they will leave forever and cease working around the home. It's unclear whether the gift of clothing received offers offense, or if they are instead grateful for the gift. Hermione thought she understood the "house-elves" a little better now, for they weren't house-elves at all. 

She had told Dotty in no uncertain terms she was not allowed to go Bogart, and Dotty’s face had softened instantly, her eyes snapping to Hermione’s. Dotty had told Hermione how no one had known what they really were anymore. No one had bothered to educate themselves in the old ways. None of the wizards seemed to care, and all of the magic was suffering for their ignorance. So, Hermione had started to learn about that, too. Dotty told Hermione she despised Dumbledore, because it was, he and Grindelwald who had stripped them down to what they were now. They had tamed their magics, so the magic of humans could complete with them. According to Dotty, something similar had happened with the Goblins. Hermione was enraged all over again, at the look on her friend’s face.

Hermione couldn’t tell Ginny any of this. Hermione knew things it was better weren’t known to anyone, and she would not put her friend in danger. The modern Wizarding world was leftover from pieces of ancient magic, magic that hadn’t known any boundaries. Dotty told her that magic was dying as surely as the wizards would die out if they didn’t change their ways, and Hermione could not argue with her. Dotty was a house-elf now, but she had been more brownie than house elf for many years before Hermione had ever been born.

Hermione didn’t know how she was going to accomplish her ends, or if she even could. But she had to try. The first thing she had to do was remove Dumbledore from a place of influence on Harry Potter, on Hogwarts students, because he did nothing to stem the discrimination and ire between the houses. For Hermione to have a prayer, she was going to have to have her classmates behind her. Yes, all of them. Wars over blood status were irrelevant. Madmen notwithstanding, Hermione had her work cut out for her.

“Gin, I’m not being forced into this, honest. And they really were nice, and I’ll probably do it again. It was fun,” Hermione soothed.

Ginny turned to look at her again, “Alright, Mi. You’re still you, that’s all I care about. Let’s get back, I’m starting to get hungry and Ron won’t leave anything if we aren’t there.”

“Good point,” Hermione smirked. The looped their arms together and headed back to their tent for the night. Tomorrow was the World Cup, and it was sure to be a show none of them had ever seen before. Hermione wasn’t rooting for a specific team, but it would be good for her to be seen out in the public eye as she was now. It would do good for her plans, and Hermione had so many plans.

__

The morning of the World Cup was mayhem. Hermione had never seen Ronald or Harry awake before seven, but there they were, bouncing in their chairs and waiting for them all to be ready to leave. Hermione found it both irritating, and endearing.

Hermione didn’t take forever getting ready, but it took her more time than she would like to admit taming her hair without Dotty. Where Dotty could placate her curls and tease them into something beautiful with a charm, it took Hermione many. She dressed carefully, not wearing house colors or the colors of either team. Instead, she wore dress robes in the brightest of corals. The color played up her sun-kissed skin and the natural hue of her lips. The bodice was fitted, but not improper, and it flared at her waist and hit her ankles.

She and Dotty had taken care when choosing what she would wear out today, and she really doubted anyone else would have chosen coral robes. It was a statement of sorts, and Hermione knew this was a good place to make it.

They sauntered together with the crowd to find their seats, though the line was incredibly long. Standing on stairs in heels was not her favorite activity, and she was once again thankful for the permanent cushioning charms Dotty had performed on all of her shoes. It wasn’t fun navigating the mud to get to the stairs either, but she had managed when Harry had offered her his arm.

Hermione had read somewhere that if you set a bar of expectation for people, they would rise to meet it. She really hoped the psychology behind that was correct because it was part of the basis for her plan. She was hoping if she provided higher standards for those around her to live up to, they would. Harry was apparently going to be the first to take that leap, but she wasn’t surprised. Harry had always been a sweetheart under the exterior he showed to the outward masses.

Somehow, during the seating process, they had ended up in front of the Malfoy’s. Hermione had not noticed until Ron had turned around the step, he was one to stay something to Harry, and his face had gone violet. Confused, Hermione looked behind her to see Draco and his father.

Hermione offered a polite smile to Draco, and nothing more. She could not be the first to say hello, not in this situation. Draco needed to be seen reaching out to her, for this step to be any good. She hadn’t anticipated the opportunity to arise here, of all places, but Hermione would take what she was offered. Draco smiled warmly at her and motioned for her hand. Hermione gave it, aware of the eyes on them.

Draco loosely grasped her hand and laid a polite kiss on the back of it. “Hello Hermione, you look lovely today.”

“Thank you, Draco. You look…festive,” Hermione teased.

Draco chuckled at her and released her hand, turning to the man next to him. “Father, allow me to introduce Hermione Granger-Ollivander.”

“Miss Granger-Ollivander,” Lucius Malfoy nodded his head at her, “it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Hermione really wanted to tell him off right then, but she held her tongue. “And yours, Mr. Malfoy.” She turned back around to the rest of her friends, who still had several flights to climb before they could be seated.

Upon turning around Hermione saw that Ron’s face had gone from purple to something darker. His face was almost bruise colored. When you bruise so deeply that the color is a deep purple so that it’s almost black. Hermione wondered if he was even breathing, to have such a complexion.

“Ron, turn around,” Harry ordered. Harry had not bothered to greet the Malfoy’s when he’d noticed what the problem was. Hermione probably should not have either. Not right in front of Ronald, but she found she couldn’t be arsed to care. Ron was going to have to grow up at some point, and Hermione wasn’t going to walk on eggshells so he wouldn’t give himself a rage-induced heart attack.

Surprisingly, Ron listened to Harry and pulled a silent about-face. Fred and George were watching her with expressions of curiosity. Hermione ignored that, too.

Hermione turned to Ginny who had been standing on the other side of her, “Does it always take this long to get seated? I swear we’ve been standing in line for hours at this point.”

“It can. The World Cup only takes place every four years, so it draws a huge crowd. People are really excited about this one, as both teams have really good records. I think the turnout might be more than they had anticipated, though,” Ginny supplied.

Hermione could only nod, and they all remained quiet until they found seats. As luck would have it, they were seated directly next to the Malfoy’s, Nott’s, and Zabini’s. Hermione couldn’t believe her luck. The entire box they occupied was people she knew, aside from their parental figures, anyway. Hermione found it much easier to relax after they’d been seated, and she’d volunteered to take the seats closest to the Slytherin troupe. She knew she would get along just fine with both parties, and it would most likely keep a fight from breaking out at some point during the game.

As soon as Theo and Blaise had seen her, they had risen to greet her, much the same as Draco had. Then the game started, and Hermione was bored. Bored out her mind. She had never been a huge fan of Quidditch, and she wasn’t invested in who won the match at all. She had been listening to her best friends talk about some star player named Krum, and something called a…Wensky…Winksi Fate? She wasn’t sure, but she definitely didn’t care. She barely watched the progression of the match. Instead she studied the faces of those around her.

“Still not a fan of Quidditch, I see,” commented Draco on her left.

“I’ve never been much into the game,” Hermione allowed.

“Is it because you don’t like to fly, or because you don’t understand the game?”

“Maybe a little bit of both? I’m not sure, but it doesn’t interest me much,” Hermione replied honestly. The rest of the time in the stands was as much about game commentary as it was about the good-natured ribbing Hermione was getting from everyone else seated in the box with her. She didn’t mind, really. It was a step in the right direction.

At some point, someone caught the snitch. Ron was beside himself with his love for Krum, and his artful skills on the broom. Hermione could not have cared less. She was tired and wanted out of this box. Her bum hurt from all the sitting.

It took less time to get out of the stands than it did to get into them, but even so by the time they had gotten to their tent people were already celebrating the win of their team, or mourning the loss of the game. Hermione was as equally disinterested in the festivities as she had been in the match.

Mr. Weasley had insisted they retire at some point, and Hermione was more than happy to do so. She had been bored to tears for hours, and sleep seemed like a good idea to her. A very good idea.

Just as it was about to be her turn in the bathroom, they all heard a crashing, banging, clamorous sound. Followed shortly by screaming, and these screams didn’t sound like those of victors or losers. No, these were the screams of people who were terrified.

Hermione dropped her pajamas to the ground and went in search of everyone else. They were all clustered around the front of the tent, staring outward.

“What in Danu’s name is happening out there?” Hermione asked, irritated. Mr. Weasley and the others turned to look at her, faces pale. Beyond pale.

“It’s the Morsmorde. It’s been put up above the encampment. We have to get out of here, now!” Mr. Weasley told them all.

Quickly, he cast his Patronus. Hermione and the others didn’t waste any time. They gathered all their belongings and were ready to run. Hermione had her wand out, willing to use it if the need arose.

“Pair off and get out of here. Run towards the woods, Aurors will find you,” Mr. Weasley instructed.

None of them protested. Fred and George took Ginny with them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran together towards the woods. _Why can nothing ever go smoothly, without psychopaths or murder?_

Hermione had one hand on Harry at all times. Ron was on the other side of him. They ran. They didn’t look back to see what was happening behind them. They didn’t have the time and they could not be caught. They had to run until someone found them and could get them to safety.

They ran through rows and rows of tents. Some of them were on fire. Hermione had seen a body or two laying on the ground, but she didn’t stop. They couldn’t stop. The air smelt putrid and ashy. Her eyes burned as if the air around them was acidic.

They had lost Ron at some point, but he had caught up with them in a few minutes time. None the worse for wear thankfully. Hermione refused to stop and refused to let go of Harry. She needed him to be safe.

The hem of Hermione’s dress got caught in some tent line, tearing it and tripping her. She let go of Harry and told them to go ahead. She would be right behind them. She was fine.

They took her at her word and ran off towards the trees. Too late, Hermione realized she had also twisted her ankle when she had fallen. She couldn’t do much running now. No, she had to hide and hope she wasn’t killed.

Hermione stumbled and limped to an abandoned stand. She slid beneath the door of the small installment, the door askew just enough to grant her entry. She clawed her way over to the corner of the small shelter and hid. And she hoped.

Trying to control her breathing, Hermione closed her eyes and performed some breathing exercises Dotty had taught her. She could call her Patronus to her, but that would give away her position if anyone were to see it emerge from her hiding place. She could only wait.

As Hermione got her breathing under control, she started hearing voices. They were far away but coming closer to her.

“I swear, I saw her go this way.”

“If I were her I would have gone for the trees, too.”

“It makes sense, but she wasn’t found by the Aurors. Potter and Weasley said she was right behind them, so where did she go?”

Hermione let out a quiet sigh of relief. It was Draco, Blaise, and Theo. They were looking for her, but she didn’t know why. She wasn’t daft, she knew they were the children of Death Eater’s. What if they had been sent to find her and bring her back to them?

“We have to get her out of here, Blaise, before she’s found by someone else,” Draco said heatedly.

“You’re right, but we can’t guarantee she’ll be safe even if we do find her. She’s a Half-Blood, but she’s also friends with Potter. Our father’s will be looking for her,” Theo said resignedly.

Hermione made her decision. A group of wizards was better than a solitary witch. She only showed herself because of what they had said. She was being hunted by the Death Eaters, and Draco sodding Malfoy was trying to get her out of danger. That was a positive step.

“I would risk their anger if it meant she survived the night,” Blaise said seriously.

Hermione slunk her way out of the shelter she had come to hide in. She could see them about one hundred feet from her, their backs facing her. She moved as quietly as possible to get out of where she was hiding.

“I’m glad to hear that, personally. I would rather not die tonight,” Hermione whispered with a wry smile. They turned at the sound of her voice and descended upon her quickly

“Witch, where have you been?! Come on, we must go now. They’re coming this way,” Draco said. He grabbed her by the hand as if to pull her along with them, but Hermione whimpered in pain as she struggled to hop along after them.

“Shite. Okay. How hurt are you?” Blaise asked.

“I twisted my ankle. I cannot put any weight on it. That’s why I was hiding instead of running,” Hermione hissed in pain.

Draco didn’t say anything else, he just picked her up and started walking away from there. Blaise and Theo stayed on either side of them, wands out, eyes scanning the horizon for trouble. Hermione was honestly too shocked to protest, and then she was in his arms, and she didn’t care. She had to get away from the encampment and she wasn’t about to do it on her own power. She made a mental note to study some basic healing spells.

Quietly, so that not even Blaise or Theo could hear her, she whispered, “Thank you,” up to Draco. Draco didn’t reply, only nodded. And they got the fuck out of there as fast as they could, because they knew they would be punished for rescuing her and keeping her from the Dark Lord. Hermione knew that she would be killed or worse at the hand of the Death Eaters. They could not afford to talk, dawdle, or otherwise occupy themselves. They used the tents for cover and made it to the tree line, and they didn’t stop until they found an Auror to get them away from the ghastly death scene they had just waded through in search of safety. Hermione knew they had come back for her, and she was not one to forget when people saved her life, or at the very least, tried to keep her from harm. 


	11. The Term Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little longer than normal...but there was a lot to do! Let me know how you like it! <3

They were fortunate to have stumbled across an Auror in their wanderings through the tree edge. Kingsley Shacklebolt, if Hermione remembered correctly. She was fairly certain that was his name.

He approached the four of them quickly, eyes darting across them for wounds. "You four alright?"

"I think I twisted my ankle. I can't put weight on it, which is why Draco is carrying me," Hermione responded quickly. She thought it best they get out of here sooner rather than later, and hopefully, it would help waylay some of the suspicion she saw lurking in the Auror's eyes. _He must know who they are._

"Let's get you all off to St. Mungo's then. They're triaging everyone who was hurt, and I'll get the detail there," Shacklebolt said quickly, drawing an item out of his pocket. "Touch the watch. It's a portkey."

Draco, Hermione, Theo, and Blaise all put a finger on the old pocket watch he was holding, and Kingsley tapped his wand to it and whispered _portus._ Hermione felt the unfortunately familiar tug behind her navel, and they were within the emergency ward of St. Mungo's within moments. Draco stumbled slightly when he landed, though he was steadied by Blaise, while Theo reached out to steady Hermione in Draco's grasp.

"Thanks," Draco nodded at his two friends. "Agreed. I don't fancy damaging myself further this evening," Hermione snarked.

Draco smirked down at her, before turning them both to Shacklebolt to ask, "Where can I take her? I can't imagine her ankle feels the best."

Draco hadn't even finished speaking when they were approached by a Medi-Witch. "Right, what's wrong with you lot, then?"

'Just me," Hermione said to her. "I fell and damaged my ankle somehow. I can't put weight on it."

"Bring her this way, lad. We'll get her taken care of," and without another word, the witch turned on her heel and started walking down the hallway. Draco followed behind her, along with Theo and Blaise. Apparently, they were all coming. Hermione didn't mind.

The witch led them to a triage room and had Draco to set her down on the edge of the bed. Hermione had the passing thought that she was impressed he could hold and carry her for so long without strain. I mean, she hadn't heard him cast a feather-light charm, so he was either that strong, a master at hiding his fatigue, or able to do nonverbal and wandless magic. Either way, Hermione was impressed.

"Thank you, Draco," she smiled up at him warmly. The corners of his mouth rose up slightly, but she could see the worry and anxiousness in his eyes. _Ah, so this is how to best get a read on him. He may be able to keep his face impassive and schooled to show nothing, but he hasn't mastered it with his eyes yet. Good to know._

Hermione placed a hand on his arm for support and slid back a little further onto the bed so she didn't risk falling off the edge. "Honestly, I should have just worn jeans. As lovely as these robes and shoes are, they are not what I would have chosen if I were going to be running for my life tonight," Hermione quipped.

Blaise let out a low chuckle, and Hermione found he and Theo had sat in the corner of the room. He smiled at her and shook her head. She could swear she heard him mutter something, bloody Gryffindor under his breath. She rolled her eyes at him and set to checking over Theo. He was always the quieter out of all of them, but she wanted to make sure he hadn't been hurt. He was staring at the floor.

"Theo, you okay?" she asked him softly. He turned his eyes up to her and nodded once. She could see his emotions plain on his face for once, and then he dropped his eyes to the floor again. She didn't press. Not here, and not around others.

"Alright, let's see to that ankle," the witch said approaching the bed. She had gathered an assortment of items and set them to hover above Hermione's bed. Draco stepped back from the bedside and went over to sit with Theo and Blaise.

The Medi-Witch cast a diagnostic charm over Hermione, nodded at her vitals, and flicked her wrist. The hovering diagram transitioned into what looked like a muggle x-ray, aside from the technicolor capabilities. Hermione had to assume that was her magic. She couldn't make much out since she was looking at it backward, but she thought it might be a fracture.

She flicked her wand again and the Medi-Witch hummed. "Looks like a small break. It shouldn't take long to heal but you'll need to stay off it while it sets. Are you a student?"

"Yes. How long will I have to stay off of it?" Hermione asked, irritated. Shacklebolt entered the room, saw that she was being treated, and went to speak with the others.

"Just overnight. It's best to let the new bone harden. The area of the fracture is why you can't walk on it. I'm glad you didn't try, because you'd have done much more damage to it," she said distractedly. Hermione had no idea what the witch was doing, but she didn't feel anything. There was a warm tingle over her skin, but that was all.

"Thankfully, I had a few escorts to get me to safety," Hermione replied pointedly. She had seen the Auror come in, and the comment was definitely for his benefit. Hermione did not appreciate he was being so suspicious of her friends. _Fuck, did I just think "friends" about snakes?_

"Alright, I've reset the bone. Drink this and you'll be mended in no time. Any of the other students who were hurt have been sent along to Hogwarts. Probably best you be sent that way too since you won't be able to walk on it. It'll be a little sore for a few days but I'm sure Pomfrey can help you take care of that."

"Thank you," Hermione said to the witch. She tipped back the potion handed to her, aware from the scent it was a small dose of Skele-Grow. Hermione was thanking her lucky stars it hadn't been worse. That potion was vile, and if she'd had to drink anymore of it, she was certain she would have thrown up.

The Medi-Witch smiled knowingly and handed her a glass of water. "This helps but try to keep it down. If not you'll have to retake the dose, and I know no one ever wants to retake the dose."

Hermione took the water from her gratefully and chugged it down. The coolness helped rid her of some of the taste. "That is so disgusting. Thank you for the water, I think I'm okay."

"Alright. You should be fine here. I'll see about getting you moved to the school. I'll be back in a bit to check on you, feel free to get comfortable," and then she was gone in a flash, white robes flying out the door as she went in search of another patient.

"Auror Shacklebolt, didn't you want to speak with me?" Hermione interjected. She had slid back further into the bed so she could sit propped up, rather than her ankles dangling over the side. As she was struggling to get comfortable, she noticed the looks on the faces of Draco, Blaise, and Theo. She didn't care for it one bit. They were still technically underage and should have their parents' present before being questioned by an Auror. Hermione was guessing the three boys knew it, too, and it was pissing Shacklebolt off.

"Yes, Miss Ollivander…"

"It's Granger-Ollivander, but you know that. I'm sure we'll all be willing to speak with you in the presence of our guardians. Until then, I'll be content for you to wait outside my hospital room," Hermione said firmly.

Auror Shacklebolt's face screwed up in irritation at her tone, likely thinking her to be the least likely source of issues. Hermione kept her face impassive and looked politely at the door. "I assure you; they won't leave this room until you can take them to their parents and question them, and they won't agree to leave until my Grandfather is here. It's simple manners, Auror Shacklebolt."

Hermione stayed focused and kept eye contact with the older man. She was irritated at his flouting of the law, likely at Dumbeldore's request. She remembered something about him, but it was like a distant itch in the back of her mind. She couldn't figure out where she had seen or heard his name. She knew he knew Dumbledore though, and that was enough for Hermione to be cautious around him.

"As you wish, Miss Granger-Ollivander. Those are your rights," he said in a clipped tone of voice. Hermione didn't care, because he was leaving the room. That's what she was really after.

"Shite, Granger. Did you have to piss off the Auror?" asked Blaise, mirth dancing in his eyes.

"He pissed me off first, trying to question you three without legal counsel or the presence of a guardian. He can go stew in the hallway, and I'll file a complaint later with the Ministry. Honestly, if they can't uphold the law they shouldn't be an Auror," Hermione said derisively.

"Well, we all knew you were a swot. Remind us not to get on your bad side," Draco replied. Hermione could tell he was still anxious, but at least he was less worried than he had been before. Hermione grinned at him.

"You're right, it's best to stay on my good side. So, let me solve this problem for you," she said with a wink. "Dotty!"

Her house-elf appeared next to her group of friends silently, who had moved closer to the bed after Shacklebolt had taken up a post outside the door. Of course, Hermione cast a silencing charm as soon as he had left to ensure their privacy.

"Miss took her time. I've been worried about you!" Dotty exclaimed. Blaise and Theo jumped, while Draco hissed under his breath. Hermione smirked, remembering all too well the ability of the little elf to scare her half to death with her silent apparition.

"I'm fine, Dotty. I fractured my ankle, but it'll be healed tomorrow morning. They're just going to move me to Hogwarts tonight instead of me catching the train. Nothing else, promise. Just the inability to run in heels around tent strings on uneven ground. I need you to do a few things for me, okay?" Dotty looked at her skeptically but nodded her agreement. She snapped her fingers and Hermione felt refreshed. She thanked the elf with a smile.

"Can you please alert Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, and Gabby Zabini that they need to come here as quickly as possible? These gentlemen need the presence of a guardian to help steer the Auror's away from questioning them. I've done the best I can, but they can't be found in this room with me. Can you also find Grandfather and bring him here?"

"Of course, Miss. The misters did well-taking care of you, I won't let them suffer. In five minutes, go to the waiting room. Your parents will meet you there shortly after," Dotty instructed looking at each of them. They nodded, a little flabbergasted, which only pleased Hermione and Dotty. Without another word, the little elf disappeared.

"Uh, not that I'm not thankful, but why are you helping us to this extent?" Blaise questioned her.

"It's simply good manners, Zabini. I'm not an idiot. Making sure I wasn't captured will not go over well for you or your parents, considering that was a Death Eater attack. So I'm doing my best to keep you alive and whole, as you likely saved me from a fate worse than death an hour ago. Besides, Shacklebolt really irritated me, and I'm spiteful," Hermione smirked.

All three boys went pale and stared at her in disbelief. Honestly, did they think no one paid attention or noticed what was going on in the world? She rolled their eyes at them. "Your secret is safe with me, but I can only do so much. I still fully intend to destroy _him_ despite being Half-Blood. I guess, though I'm technically Pureblood by adoption…" she trailed off, waving her hand in the air as if it didn't matter. "You are not yet his creatures, and I'll not have you punished when you've done nothing wrong. And Theo, get that look off your face. I don't blame you. I would have been perfectly fine if I hadn't caught my heel on the tent string. The point is, go to the waiting area, you're safe for now. We'll talk more about this later."

They nodded, taking the dismissal for what it was. No one questioned the word of Hermione Granger, and no one would question the word of Hermione Granger-Ollivander. She said something, she meant it, and she always followed through. Draco gave her a grateful smile as he left, and she shooed them out with her hands, casting a Notice-Me-Not across them all wandlessly as they left, so the Auror wouldn't harangue them.

She had all of two minutes to herself, to breathe, before she could hear the yelling of Weasley's. _Fuck, this is just what I wanted to deal with right now. Fucking Shacklebolt had to of done. There's no other reason for it._ Thankfully, she also heard Harry's voice, along with that of Sirius, Remus, and her Grandfather. At least those were welcomed guests at her bedside.

They were on her within moments, and her room was much too crowded and loud. Hermione shot a pleading look to her Grandfather, her understood her silent request for getting the rambunctious ones out of the room. Especially Molly Weasely. Her shrill voice and condescending tone was grating on Hermione's nerves something fierce, and her wand hand was itching. Her Grandfather nodded at her and started ushering everyone out, aside from her favorite people in the world.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden silence with the departure of the Weasley clan. Her Grandfather had ushered out everyone aside from Harry, Remus, and Sirius. She wouldn't have been upset if Ginny had stayed, but it wouldn't have gone over well with the rest of the redheads.

"What are they even doing here? I didn't ask for them!" Hermione complained.

"I think that probably has to do with Shacklebolt. He's close to the Weasley family and knew you had been staying with them," Remus offered.

Hermione scoffed, "Yes. That _Auror,"_ she spat. "He was trying to question me without my guardian. And he was trying to do the same to Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott. As if they had something to do with me tripping over a blasted tent string!"

Sirius gave her a stern look, "Hermione, you don't know that they don't. Those three names have always been associated with Death Eaters."

"Honestly, do you think me an idiot? I know who their parents are, but that is not who they are _yet._ They came looking for me and got me out of there, so don't be such a git." Hermione saw Harry open his mouth out of the corner of her eye to speak, but she turned a stern look of her own at her best friend. "No, Harry Potter. Do not. They were terrified at the thought of being caught. I would imagine it should not become common knowledge that they saved me, so we're going to have to shut that Auror up, and I intend to do so."

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but thought about what she had said. Someone grabbed Hermione's hand in theirs, and she knew it was her Opa without checking. She looked over at him and gave him a smile. "I'm really fine, Opa. Thankfully they came to search me out when they learned that the attack was meant to find Harry, Ron, or myself. I was lucky they were there."

"Indeed, Hermione, you were. Did you say that Shacklebolt was trying to question you all without a guardian?" She could tell he was irritated at the knowledge, and she could not blame him.

"Yes, he was. We all knew that he could not, though. I sent Dotty to get Gabby and the other parents. I don't like them but they'll protect them."

"I think you're right about that. I'll file the complaint on your behalf, as you'll be moved to the school shortly," said her Grandfather. "And since when do you call me Opa?"

"Grandfather is too stuffy. Opa is perfect if we're not in public," Hermione replied warmly.

"Agreed, dear girl."

"Hermione," Harry said hesitantly, "You're sure they came back for you? Really? Because that is not how the snakes we know would behave…"

Hermione huffed in annoyance, "Yes, I'm positive. I heard them talking before I announced myself. I knew I wasn't getting anywhere on this ankle, so I hid. I didn't come out until I'd heard them looking for me."

Harry just nodded and looked thoughtful. He didn't seem to know what to say, so Hermione would let him process that information at his own pace. Harry was prone to bouts of rage, but Hermione knew that he was very intelligent and logical if he put his emotions on the backburner. Since Hermione was pleased he was using his brain instead of yelling, she just let it be.

"Alright, fine. I concede the point. They are children, they are not their parents. I'm glad they were there for you," Sirius said suddenly. Remus looked shocked at his husband but put a hand on his shoulder.

"Good, now that we're all thinking instead of feeling, can we also agree it would be bad if their parents found out what they were doing? Ever since they've been "allowed" to treat me properly, they do. They're not bad kids, I really just think they are stuck and don't see a way out of their situations," Hermione mused.

The people around her nodded in agreement, the older men looking grim. They'd heard the stories, they'd lived through the first war. They knew what punishment meant in old Pureblood lines, and it didn't look as if they agreed with it. Hermione wasn't aware of the details, but Dotty had educated her about some of the older methods. Hermione thoroughly disagreed with all of them.

"Right then. I'll leave this up to you three. I don't think I can do anything about it from a hospital bed. And I mean it, I want that Auror's badge. He was rude and he broke the law," Hermione grumped. "Also, can the Weasley's not be allowed in this room? I don't have the energy to deal with that much noise right now."

Sirius, Remus, and her Opa just agreed. She told the story of what had happened, and Harry shared his portion of the events. Ron had been slightly singed, but otherwise, everyone was alright. Hermione sent her Opa out to check after Draco, Blaise, and Theo. He came back to report they were safe, fine, and on their way home. By the time he had taken his seat, the Medi-witch from earlier had come back and told her she was being transported to Hogwarts. All those in the room with her refused to leave her side, so everyone went.

Madam Pomfrey was slightly miffed at the sudden arrival of one patient, and four non-patients, but she didn't fuss too much once her Opa and Sirius turned on the charm. Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes. Once they got Hermione settled Remus extracted Sirius and Harry from the Hospital Wing and forced them to go to the Gryffindor tower to get some rest.

"It's been a long day, and I think we could all use it," Sirius agreed, looking hesitant.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to leave her," said her Opa. Hermione rolled her eyes at all of them again. _Honestly, it doesn't even hurt! I'm fine!_ She smiled at her Opa, though. She was happy he cared, she just didn't want him to be uncomfortable here instead of home in his own bed.

"Nonsense, my girl. I have Dotty to bring me anything I need, and I'm not leaving until you're on both your feet," he said firmly. Hermione just sniffed and requested Dotty's sleep tea, to which he smiled. She also extracted a promise from him that she was not to be visited by any Weasley's. She was not in the mood.

Dotty came in, fussed more over Hermione, dressed her in some comfortable sleep clothes with a snap of her fingers, and then she disappeared. Hermione sipped her sleep tea, humming in appreciation. Dotty made spectacular tea, and when Hermione was anxious it always helped her to sleep. Hermione found she was most definitely anxious. She needed to talk to Blaise, Draco, and Theo soon. She was worried for them, and she'd already decided they were friends, albeit subconsciously, so she would not leave them to the fate their parents would have for them. No, she would not. After she had finished her tea, it hadn't taken long for Hermione to fall asleep. It helped knowing she was at Hogwarts, and her Opa was nearby. She might miss her parents every day, but she knew she had someone to look out for her.

Hermione woke with a start, disoriented by not recognizing her surroundings. It came back to her slowly, the attack during the World Cup, and being rescued by Draco, Blaise, and Theo. Hermione rubbed her face, and sat up slowly. She glanced to her left to see her Opa snoozing deeply. At least he was comfortable. She hears a small noise off to the right and finds Dumbledore standing next to her bed.

Hermione very carefully does not go for her wand, but she wants to and she's fairly certain it's plain in her actions. She forces herself to calm down, noticing the Headmaster is wearing ostentatious purple and green robes.

"Sir," Hermione greets evenly.

"Miss Granger-Ollivander. I hear you've had a very interesting day," Dumbledore commented, eyes twinkling.

"You could say that sir," Hermione groaned. She did not want to have this conversation. She wanted to be asleep. She was tired and annoyed.

"Mr. Potter is safe, and so are you. I'm glad you're alright," Dumbledore offered. "How is the ankle?"

"Thank you, sir. I can't walk on it until tomorrow morning, but it shockingly does not hurt," she replied.

"Good, good. No reason for you to be in pain. Would you liked to tell me what happened, Miss Granger-Ollivander?"

"I'm not sure what I can tell you that you haven't already heard, sir. There was a Death Eater attack. I tripped and fell, fracturing my ankle. Harry was too important. I managed to find a shelter to hide and did until the coast was clear and I could get out of the area. I found an Auror and was taken to St. Mungo's," Hermione summarized.

"Yes, I had heard that. The thing I am most interested in though, is the fact you were rescued by Mssr.'s Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott. Is that correct?" Dumbledore twinkled at her, and Hermione wanted to punch him in the face.

"They did, though I don't think it's wise that be made common knowledge," Hermione hedged. She didn't like that Dumbledore had this information, and could only surmise it had come from Shacklebolt. She growled, angry now. "How do you even know that? Auror's speaking out of turn and interrogating children, again?"

"Of course. Shacklebolt is loyal to me," Dumbledore replied flippantly.

"He is an Auror! Those boys were terrified! He had them cornered in my _hospital room_ after an attack! Does that not seem wrong to you?!" Hermione was vaguely aware she was yelling now, but she had little concern over it. She was not going to kowtow to Dumbledore or his whims. She would not be his pawn piece. She would not, repeat, would not allow him to hurt her friends or any of her family for his version of the "the greater good."

"What," her Opa asked angrily, "is going on here Albus? How dare you ask my granddaughter without waking me first!? You have no right! She is not a ward of the state, and you have no right to wake her from her _sickbed_ to question her! She was nearly a victim! They were looking for _her_!"

Ollivander had pulled himself from sleep more quickly than she had managed, and he was visibly angry. He stood on the other side of Hermione's bed, magic crackling around him as he confronted the scheming Headmaster.

"Oh, please Garrick. I wasn't _questioning_ her. I'm just trying to get a clear take on what happened today so that I have a better understanding. It is _very_ interesting she was saved by a group of Slytherin's, is it not? I certainly find it so," Dumbledore said, glaring down at her.

Hermione glared back at him, finding she had never disliked the Headmaster more. She had known Dumbledore favored Gryffindor house, but honestly, they were all _children._ She was starting to see why Slytherin house hated the Headmaster so much. If they were involved, then they must be doing something wrong, right?

"JUST A MINUTE! THOSE BOYS SAVED HER TODAY, SO SHUT YOUR MOUTH YOU DODDERING OLD FOOL! You and I have old grudges, Albus, but you will not be making my granddaughter or those boys pay for them. If I get so much as a _hint_ of their mistreatment I will make it my personal business to air your dirty laundry to anyone who will listen. Do I make myself clear? Your "greater good," was not so different from Voldemort's not so very long ago, and I've not forgotten your questions about the Elder Wand," Her Opa glared at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore didn't respond, he left, glaring daggers at the both of them before he went. Hermione was glad to see him go, letting out a puff of air she hadn't realized she was holding in. She filed away the conversation for later. She would need to look up the Elder Wand. She had never heard of it before and felt it prudent to find out as much as she could about it if it could force Dumbledore to back off.

"Opa," she began, "do you not like the Headmaster?"

Hermione looked up to see him smirking at her. He cupped her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Not particularly, dear. He has done some good, but he is not what he seems to be."

"Don't I know it," she replied with a chuckle. "What time is it?"

"It's half seven."

"Care to see if Madam Pomfrey is awake? I'm suddenly ravenous and would like to see if my ankle will function normally," Hermione wheedled. Her Opa smiled at her and went in search of the Medi-Witch to clear her.

He returned shortly with Madam Pomfrey in tow. She cast a diagnostic charm over Hermione and nodded her head at the results. "Try putting weight on it, dear. It might be a little tender, but if you can walk on it with minimal pain I'll let you go, with the caveat that you will come to me if the pain increases," she remarked sternly.

Hermione nodded and stepped gingerly out of bed, and took a few slow steps with her Opa supporting her arm in case it was too much. "It feels like a sprain that's a few days old. Like I know it will be sore at the end of the day, but it's fine."

"Then you may go whenever you're ready. If the pain kicks up, come to see me and I'll give you a mild pain potion to counteract it. You can also use cooling charms to help with the swelling," Madam Pomfrey instructed.

Hermione nodded her understanding, "Thank you Madam Pomfrey. I will search you out if it gets worse."

The matron nodded her head and told her she would be going down to breakfast and she would see her there. Once she had left the hospital wing, Hermione looked around to see there were a few others in the ward. None of them appeared to be awake yet, though.

"Dotty!" her Opa called.

"Yes, Master? How are you, Miss?"

"I'm fine, Dotty, I promise," Hermione said warmly.

"Dotty, could you please get us ready for the day? I don't have anything here and all of Hermione's things have been taken to her dorm," her Opa asked.

Dotty simply nodded and set to work. She snapped her fingers and her Opa was ready and presentable. Dotty took a little more time on Hermione, though, looking at her in concentration. Dotty snapped her fingers again, and Hermione's nightclothes had been exchanged for deep green dressing robes, decorated in a delicate gold brocade. She would not have to be in her uniform until the Welcoming Feast. Dotty looked at the shoes Hermione had worn to the World Cup, and changed them into low gold heels, only an inch in height. Hermione shouldn't have a problem walking in these, even with the hurt ankle. Dotty added cushioning charms to the shoes, and a cooling charm to Hermione's ankle for good measure, and then nodded that she was done.

"Sit Miss. Let me fix your hair. I will be expecting you to call for me in the mornings to make sure you've got it under control. I do the charm better," Dotty teased lightly.

Hermione sat down and smiled at the elf, happy to let her do the work today. Dotty always managed her hair better, it was true, and she saw no reason to argue the point. "Yes, Dotty, if you insist."

"You know I do, Miss," Dotty said seriously.

"Sorry Opa," Hermione said grinning over at her grandfather, "it looks as if I'll be stealing Dotty in the mornings." Her Opa laughed and waved them off. He didn't seem at all put out by the fact Dotty favored her over him.

Dotty pulled her hair back into a French braid on the top of her head, using sticking charms to make sure her curls could not escape. She took the tail of the braid and tucked it into and under itself to create a simple chignon. Dotty pulled out a few curls here and there to frame her face, and declared her ready for the day. Hermione knew it would last all day and she was grateful not to have to mess with her riotous curls before the feast.

"Thank you, Dotty. You're the best," Hermione said warmly.

Dotty smiled back, "It's nothing, Miss. Call me if you need anything. Your things have already been set up in your dorm as you like them. I made sure of it." And with that final note, Dotty disappeared again.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Dotty's antics. Her Opa stood up from the bed he had occupied and offered her his arm. "Ready for breakfast?"

"Sure. Definitely. I'm really looking forward to all the glares I'm bound to get," Hermione snarked.

When they arrived in the dining hall, they were greeted with a table full of people. Harry waved them over, and they were more than happy to oblige. They stayed at the far end, away from Ronald and Molly Weasley. Normally, she would have received a smile from Dumbledore, but she didn't look in his direction. She didn't really care to see his face. He and Molly could have one another. The Professors were all at the table, per usual. She found it sort of odd they ate up there even when there weren't students, but didn't comment on it.

"How are you feeling, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Oh, I'm fine. I might be sore later, but that's normal."

"I'm glad you're mobile again," Remus said with a grin.

"Me, too," Hermione grinned back.

"What's the deal with Dumbledore? He's been in a mood all morning," Sirius commented.

"I can't say that I have any idea," Hermione replied, voice saccharine.

"Yeah, okay. I don't want to know. I know what that tone of voice means," Harry chuckled.

Hermione was interrupted from replying by the owls coming in to make their deliveries. There were three letters dropped into her lap. Hermione opened them one by one and scanned them quickly. Draco, Blaise, and Theo had all written to her to see how she was feeling. She shrank the letters with a tap of her wand and tucked them away to answer later. She looked up to see Professor Snape eyeing her curiously. She just smirked at him and went back to her breakfast. _That won't do. If Snape knows which owls those are, we are going to need a different way to communicate, and quickly. I'll need to figure that out, soon._

Hermione finished her breakfast with her family, laughing at the stories Remus, Sirius, and her Opa were telling. All the adults left after breakfast, so Hermione, Harry, and Ginny climbed their way to the tower. Hermione decides to take a nap, as her ankle aches from the climb.

"Hermione, wake up. You need to get changed and we have to head down for the Feast," came Ginny's voice.

Hermione groaned, sitting up. "Thanks, Gin."

"Sure, I'll meet you in the common room, okay?"

Hermione just nodded her dismissal, got dressed with minimal fuss. She was pleased about whatever Dotty had done to her uniforms though. They were much softer than before, and Hermione definitely appreciated that. She and Ginny walked to an empty spot at the table arm in arm, far away from Ron. Hermione definitely appreciated her friend's willingness to snub her brother for her, because Hermione was still quite cross with Ronald.

Hermione looked up just in time to see Draco, Blaise, and Theo entering the Great Hall together. She nodded at them, a sign she was fine, and they went to their table. Draco sat between Blaise and Theo, as far away from Pansy Parkinson as possible. Hermione found that to be quite an amusing development.

"Hello! Earth to Hermione!" A voice was calling her to her. She was annoyed at that voice. She was still trying to solve that communication issue.

Hermione looked up to see Neville sitting across from her and Ginny, and a wide smile came unbidden to her lips. "Hello, Neville! How was your holiday?"

"Quite alright. Gran gave me a full run of the gardens!"

"That sounds lovely, Neville," Hermione replied genuinely.

"Ah, I know that look. You're working on a problem aren't you?"

"I've got a puzzle…." Hermione trailed off. Neville just shook his head at her and turned to Harry, who had come to sit next to him.

Hermione was so lost in thought she had missed the Sorting. So far gone that she hadn't heard the excited chatter around her as she puzzled which spells to layer to achieve the effect she desired. Subconsciously, she heard people talking about her change in name and appearance, but she could ignore it while she was trying to figure this out. She suddenly smiled to herself, having found her solution.

She could create a sort of Wizarding instant messenger system for them. It should be simple enough. She nodded to herself and finally looked up from the food she had absently been eating, just in time for the announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Fuck.

She paid attention long enough to see the entrance of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students and could hear Ron fanboying over Krum six people away. It was annoying. Hermione absently finished her dinner, eager to get back to her room and start laying the spells and enchantments on the journals for her Snake Guard, which is what she had started referring to them as in her head.

Hermione did not miss the pointed looks and glares around the table, or the Hall for that matter. She was most definitely ready to go to bed. The attention was rude, unwanted, and she knew she had no choice but the bear it. Hermione sighed inwardly, waiting for Neville, Harry and Ginny to finish their meals so they could walk up to the tower together.


	12. Changing Tide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was quite long, and I still could not fit all the information I wanted to in it! Please let me know what you all think! Have no fear, she hasn't forgotten her original task, but she has been rather busy learning how to complete her task in her studies. She also won't be able to intact her plots without the help of some friends. Some well-placed friends. Enjoy the chapter and I will see you next week for more! <3

The common room was as loud as she remembered, and though she was curled up in front of the fire with Ginny and Neville she found she longed to be back at home with a book and a cup of Dotty’s delicious hot chocolate.

“So, I hear you’ve had a rather interesting summer, Hermione,” Neville prodded.

Hermione frowned at him, not in the mood to discuss her change in status. She knew she was going to have to eventually, but found she rather wished it had not been brought up just now. “Something like that, Neville,” she hedged. She hoped he took the hint.

“Ah, well. I’m just glad you seem to be doing alright. I know all the etiquette and rules can be tiresome,” Neville replied kindly.

“They can be, but I’ve a good teacher and my Opa seldom stands on ceremony in our home if it’s just he and I.”

Ginny pitched in with, ‘He’s a good man to have in your corner it seems. I’ve never seen him so cross as he was when my Mum tried to sneak into the hospital ward to see you. He turned her out like a fox in a hen pen.”

Hermione chuckled lightly. “I believe that. He has been lovely.”

“I won’t pry Hermione, but if you have something you want to ask about, I’d be happy to help. You seem to have a good handle on things, but its’ sometimes nice to get another opinion,” Neville offered.

“Thank you, Neville, I really appreciate that.”

“Well, I’m off to bed. I suggest you two do the same thing. The first day of classes has always been a bit tiresome,” Neville stated.

Hermione nodded in solidarity, rising with Neville. She held her hand out to Ginny and pulled her out of the couch with a lurch. They parted ways for the night. Hermione wasn’t looking forward to hearing from Lavender or Parvati. Thankfully, both occupants were currently sleeping in their own beds. She set wards around her bed and fell promptly asleep after closing her eyes.

Hermione woke early the next morning, dreading the simpering from Lavender and the sniping comments from Parvati she was sure to get. She claimed the bathroom first, taking a quick shower and calling Dotty to fix her hair into something manageable. She dressed in her uniforms, lengthening the skirt to just below her knees. She thanked Dotty for maintaining her unruly mane of curls, before grudgingly going back into the dorm room. She had some business to attend to this morning.

Unfortunately, Parvati and Lavender were both awake and scrutinizing her every move. This, of course, irritated Hermione immensely but there was nothing to be done about it. She would simply ignore it until they said something, and she surely would not be breaking the silence first. Lavender would only be capable of staying quiet a few minutes, anyway, and Hermione could be patient if she needed to be. Also, if they never spoke another word to her, Hermione wouldn’t feel put out.

“Good morning, Hermione,” Lavender said, almost nicely. There was, however, an inflection on her name which was not at all kind and very suspicious.

“Lavender, Parvati, good morning.” Hermione was simply polite. She had been raised to be polite, and it couldn’t hurt. She could always hex them later. Hermione set about readying her bag for the day and grabbed one of her extra journals. Hermione had snagged about six of them for herself throughout her shopping trips. They would be perfect for what she had in mind.

“Your hair looks lovely. Not all like it used to. Who have you bribed to fix it?” Lavender, again. The cow.

“Oh, does it look different?” Hermione deflected. She was not about to fall to Lavender’s infantile taunts.

“You know it does. How does it feel, to be an Ollivander now? Finally, rid of that “mudblood” moniker, right?” Parvati cut in, nastily. Hermione darted a glance to her from the corner of her eyes, peeved at her general usage of the slur as well as her general nosiness.

“Firstly, stuff it, Patil. We are not friends, and we never have been. I won’t be starting now. Additionally, call me that again, even if only in reference to what others have said, and I’ll ensure it’s etched across your forehead in pustules which will never heal, and leak pus so pungent no one will want to be near you,” Hermione commented with a smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve actual important things to do.”

Hermione turned on her heel and left, immediately. She didn’t bother to hear the huffs of indignation or spluttering. She knew they would follow at her exit. Hermione had known there would be curiosity about the adoption, but truly, this was rather ridiculous. She had heard the uttered whispers last night about how she had “changed” and didn’t “look like herself anymore.” Obviously, none of the teenagers were thinking about the fact that her parents had died. Even though Hermione knew they were young and impetuous, she found she had to resist the urge to hex them.

Ginny and Neville had been waiting for Hermione in the common room. She set the blank journal on the table in front of the fireplace. She would need to send them off this morning for them to be useful. She cast a protean charm to link them all together, an impervious charm to keep them pristine. Hermione took her time casting another charm meant to obscure anything in the books. This was of Hermione’s own making, as she had quickly tired of others stealing her work and using it to their own ends. The final spell she cast was to ensure that only the intended individuals would be able to open the journals, tying the items to their respective magical signatures. She wrote a brief description in the front of the journal to instruct the others on how to use it and created three copies for her snake friends.

Ginny and Neville had been quietly watching her work, knowing better than to interrupt her before she was done. “What are those for, Hermione?” asked Ginny.

“Just a little something I’ve been working on. I want to get them tested to see if they work like I thought. I’ll meet you guys in the Great Hall. I want to send these off, first,” Hermione hedged.

“Who are you sending them to?” Neville queried suspiciously.

“A few friends,” Hermione replied, looking up at him with a smile.

Neville just hummed a response, and Hermione let it go at that. If Ginny and Neville saw them delivered to Draco, Theo, or Blaise they would figure it out anyway. Hermione didn’t feel it was their business, but she knew it would be difficult to garner kindness for the snakes. House prejudice was firmly ingrained in Hogwarts, especially between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

“Alright, we’ll see you at breakfast. Don’t be late though, or you’ll have to hunt McGonagall down to find your schedule,” Ginny said pointedly.

Ginny was aware of Hermione’s rescue during the World Cup and likely knew what Hermione was up to. Hermione had told Ginny in confidence about her sneaky friends, and how different they seemed when they weren’t at Hogwarts. Ginny only warned her to be cautious, knowing Hermione was bound to do as she pleased.

Hermione nodded and hurried out of the common room and up to the owlery. She was certain they would receive the items this morning if she was fast enough. She sent the items with three different owls and hurried quickly down to breakfast. She was eager to see her class schedule for the term. She was taking several classes this year, all of them, excepting Divination and Muggle studies.

Hermione found her seat amongst Ginny and Neville. Harry sat across from Ginny next to Neville, and Hermione plopped down next to Ginny. She was still rather cross with Ron and his comments from the World Cup, so she was pleased to discover he was either not yet at breakfast or had sat at the other end of the table.

Hermione ignored the looks from other students and went about making her breakfast as he liked it. She had some fruit, porridge, toast, and of course, tea. Hermione sipped her tea, reveling in the taste. She couldn’t help but compare it to Dotty’s and found it lacking. She so missed Dotty’s tea and quiet support. Hermione had grown used to being alone before she had moved in with her Grandfather, but also found she missed his jokes and quiet support as well. Her parents had supported her as well as they could, but they had not understood magic in the way her Grandfather had. Or at least, she didn’t think they had. Hermione didn’t know anymore.

Hogwarts had become a pit of glaring, whispering, judging faces. Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had been treating her much the same, though the rest of her housemates had become distant. Hermione was used to being on her own but being ostracized by her own house was disconcerting. She had a feeling there was a certain redhead behind it, but she wasn’t sure about that and had to let it stand for now.

“Hermione, did you threaten Parvati this morning?” asked Harry between bites.

“Not so much, more like promised,” Hermione replied airily. Ginny snorted next to her, and Neville fought to keep from choking on his pumpkin juice. “Whatever for?”

“She was being rude and referred to me as a mudblood. I took offense,” Hermione shrugged.

Ginny gaped at her, and her face suddenly turned hard. “Tell me she didn’t.”

“She did. I, on some level, understand that what has happened in my life is cause for curiosity and gossip. I am not, however, going to entertain it. I lost my parents. None of this has been easy or simple. It’s not my fault I was discovered I’d actually been a Half-Blood the whole time. It’s not my fault Rita Skeeter is a horrendous vacuous cow. They can either reign in their discontent or have it reflected at them. This goes for Ronald, too. Do not think I’ve missed his glares and comments. I give no quarter to these people. They are no longer children; I suggest they attempt to grow up and act like it. I would appreciate them acting as if they had at least a modicum of empathy, but if they cannot, I will treat them in kind.”

Neville stared at her across the table and gave her one slow nod. She supposed out of everyone, Neville and Harry would understand best. They didn’t have their parents either and were often subject to gossip or ridicule. Hermione was essentially declaring her firm intent not to put up with it.

“I’ve tried talking to Ron. He’s just…it’s like talking to an empty suit of armor. He can’t see past your willingness to talk to Malfoy and the rest. Like it’s offensive to him. He’s been grumbling ever since you found a way out of the Burrow,” Harry supplied. “I get that he hates Malfoy, but he was polite enough at the game. It’s gotten annoying to be around him. He’s all too quick to forget the way his Mum acted towards you at the Burrow, too.”

“Yes, well, I’ve no intention to forgive that,” Hermione bristled. “You shouldn’t lose a friend over this, though.”

“It’s fine, Hermione. You’re my friend, too, and he's wrong this time. I didn’t like how Mrs. Weasely was acting toward you, and I don’t like how she behaves towards Sirius or Remus, either.”

Hermione looked over to see Ginny looking away from the both of them, aware they were discussing her family members. “Sorry, Gin. I’m just…miffed.”

Ginny shook her head. “No, don’t be. Mum is…well, she’s Mum. She’s always been overbearing so I’ve never known anything else. I can’t fault either of you for being irritated by her actions. She’s fierce in her love for her family, but she can also be equally suffocating. She’s not been fair, and she’s even been mean. I think Mum hoped to steal Hermione for Ron, but honestly, she’s daft to have ever believed that would have ever worked.”

Hermione loudly scoffed, “Please! We would have killed one another!”

Harry nodded. He knew all too well Ron and Hermione were not a good match, even though Ron carried a torch for her. He was immensely pleased that Sirius had promised to never try to arrange a marriage for him, believing that love matches to be far more fortuitous. He absently wondered if that would be the fate of his best friend, his pseudo-sister.

“You would have,” commented Neville. He looked at Ginny then, “I didn’t think your family still held the arranged marriages?”

“Not usually. Mum is convinced though that Hermione should be for Ron,” Ginny grimaced. She shot an apologetic look at Hermione, who was a light shade of green.

“I’ve never been happier to know my Grandfather on board, allowing me to make my own choices. He’s in agreement to not accept any betrothal contracts without my express permission,” she replied, dismayed.

Hermione had put the question to her Opa plainly one morning at tea following a horrifying and instructional lesson with Dotty. Her Grandfather had seemed surprised and laughed so loudly it shocked Hermione in turn. He had told her, “Dear girl, no. We have not bothered with such things in many, many years.” Hermione had let out a sigh of relief and they’d gone back to discussing wandlore.

“I’m happy too, Hermione. Mum can be persistent,” Ginny replied.

Just then, Hermione looked up to see Ron watching them from down the table next to Dean and Seamus. She nodded politely at them and went about her breakfast, letting the conversation lull.

The owls came and dropped off the morning post and Hermione very carefully did not look at the Slytherin table. She decided then that mealtimes were likely going to be her least favorite, going forward. Whenever she looked up she could just catch the turning away of heads. She sighed, annoyed at the turn of events. Rita Skeeter and her meddlesome quill were going to have to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

Ignoring the people around her as best as she could, Hermione waited for her class schedule. Professor McGonagall seemed nearly done with breakfast, so she should be on her way to hand them out soon. Hermione caught a waving hand out of the corner of her eye to find Ginny gesticulating wildly, having been sucked into a Quidditch conversation with Harry and Neville. This suited Hermione just fine, as it left her free to observe others in the Hall. She looked up at the Heads’ table again to see her head of house making her way towards their tables. Hermione squirmed in her seat, excited about getting her schedule and heading off to class for the day.

“Rather ambitious, Miss Granger-Ollivander,” Professor McGonagall remarked. Hermione smiled at her, pleased to know where to head for her first class of the day…until she looked at her schedule and found double potions scheduled with the Slytherin house. Resolved to have a horrid Monday morning, Hermione bid her goodbyes and made her way down to the dungeons.

“I’d best get a head start, Harry. It wouldn’t do to be cursed on the first day. I’m under no illusions that Slytherin house bears me ill-will. Don’t worry, I’ll check your seat for you, too,” she smiled.

Harry scoffed and nodded his understanding. “I’ll be down in just a few minutes, Hermione. I’ll sit with you and try to keep Ron away from you in classes.”

Hermione thanked him and wandered down to the classroom to check her normal desk for curses or hexes lying in wait. Surprised, but pleased, to find there weren’t any, Hermione began to set her items out for class. She never knew what Professor Snape had planned, so she found it best to come prepared for anything. Sometimes the lessons were practical, and other times he would lecture throughout the entire time period.

Not ten minutes after Hermione had settled into her favorite seat, did she hear the tell-tale sound of feet headed her direction. Soon the classroom was filling up with students. Harry had found and sat next to her quickly, so Ron couldn’t torment her throughout class. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were next to them at the left-handed table, Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass on the right-hand side, Gregory Goyle and Pansy Parkinson sat in front of them, while Neville and Lavender were directly behind them. Thankfully Ron was sitting at the furthest table in the back of the class with Seamus. While Hermione didn’t like that she couldn’t keep an eye on him, she knew Neville would watch her back. Thankfully, Patil did not take Potions.

The Slytherin house students were the last in the door, and they filtered in slowly. Hermione had to fight not to make eye contact or smile at Blaise, Draco, or Theo. She was not particularly clear on if they were willing to speak to her in front of their other classmates, so she would not initiate conversation. She could leave that up to them. After all, it was their house, and Hermione had enough work to do when it came to fixing her own house. She didn’t expect anything to change overnight.

Draco and Blaise had their potions items out and each of them was studying the journal she had sent them. Draco was the first to test it out, of course. Hermione smirked to herself, pleased when she felt her journal heating up ever so slightly to indicate she’d gotten a message.

‘Draco – How did you come up with this, Hermione?’

‘Blaise- I didn’t.’

‘Theo – Obviously we all know it was Hermione.’

‘Hermione – ‘Just something I’ve been working on in my spare time. I thought it may become useful for us to talk to one another without being seen. How do you like it?’

‘Blaise – I think it’s brilliant.’

‘Theo – I’ve worked out some of the enchantments on this. I can tell you, it is brilliant.’

‘Draco – I like it. It keeps us all safe and looks innocuous in class.’

‘Hermione – That’s one of the reasons I did it. Plus, no one else can read it.’

Before Hermione could read any responses, she heard the derisive voice of Pansy Parkinson. “You’ll always be a mudblood, you know. Even if your last name is Ollivander now, it will never change the mud in your veins.”

Hermione, rather than responding immediately, wandlessly summoned a parchment from her book bag without breaking eye contact with Parkinson. She unrolled it, rather pointedly, directly in front of Pansy’s face. The witch had attempted to recoil, but the parchment followed her until she stopped. Hermione waited a few minutes for the prejudiced witch to read what was spelled out plain as day in front of her face.

“Now you know Parkinson. I’m a Half-Blood by birth, and a Pureblood by adoption. Next time you slander me, remember this moment and how you escaped unharmed. This is your one. Next time it will be a duel, as is my right under the law,” Hermione seethed, rolling the parchment up and stowing it back in her bag.

Pansy went pale and slunk back to her seat, a little unsteady on her feet. She didn’t say another word. The whole class was studying her, though she noticed a grudging sense of approval from a lot of the Slytherins.  _ I suppose that’s a step in the correct direction. _

No one was able to comment, however, because Professor Snape swept to the front of the classroom, demanding immediate attention. Hermione idly wondered if this was what being Harry felt like. All the surreptitious glances and whispered comments. She would have despised it, and she couldn’t blame Harry for hating it either.

“Today, you will be trying your hand at brewing a Potion of Mimicry. It is not something I've ever allowed students to attempt to brew in class before, for obvious reasons. Can anyone tell me what the potion does?”

Hermione did not raise her hand much to everyone’s surprise. Instead, she was looking in her book, presumably at the recipe, and ignoring everyone else.

Hermione glanced up at the open journal on her desk, before writing a quick, “Meet me tonight after dinner on the 7 th floor, near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy at eight.” She then shut her notebook and stowed it away in her bag. She then looked back to her books to study the list of ingredients.

With a put upon sigh, Snape called on students in the classroom. “Longbottom, can you explain what the potion does?”

“Professor, I believe it allows the drinker of the potion to copy another person’s voice for a finite amount of time.”

“Partially correct. Take two points for Gryffindor. Can anyone tell me why this potion is considered difficult to brew?” Again, no one raised their hands. Harry elbowed Hermione gently in the ribs. She shot him a smirk and ignored him.

“Very well. Granger-Ollivander?”

“Sir?”

“Can you succinctly explain why this potion is difficult to brew?”

“Yes, Sir. The Potion of Mimicry must be brewed with the person you intend to impersonate in mind throughout the process, otherwise you will sound like yourself, rendering the potion useless,” Hermione replied without looking up from her text.

“Five points to Gryffindor. That is correct,” Snape replied. He smirked when he heard the collective intake of breath from the students. Snape didn’t usually give points. He definitely did not give points to Gryffindor, and never twice in one class period. Hermione ignored it, surmising it would be best not to antagonize her Professor.

“I see your resident swot has decided to make you all study for yourselves this year. Unfortunately, for you. The instructions are on the board. Get to work,” and Snape went to sit behind his desk to watch the mayhem unfold.

“I’ll get the ingredients, Harry. Set up the cauldron, alright?” Harry just nodded, familiar with this set up from previous years. Hermione would have the instructions nearly memorized by the time they were cleared to start working on the potion. She usually did.

Hermione went to the front of the classroom to begin rifling through the ingredient stores. She would need dandelion root, dragon claw, fairy wing, flobberworm mucus, mint, fluxweed, knotgrass, honeywater, frog tongue, a lizard leg, and a loveage. She might also grab some octopus powder, just in case it was needed.

Being one of the first to go for the ingredients she got to pick the best of everything. She was going to substitute some items, though. These would work better together than the others. When she turned around she found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy. He gave her a small smile and curt nod of the head and moved to let her pass. Of course, Professor Snape did not miss this interaction. The man seldom missed anything.

Hermione could feel the eyes of her dour potions master track her progress back to the table she shared with Potter. Thankfully, Harry had learned not to light the fire until she instructed him to do so. He’d done that once last year and nearly had gotten himself blasted to smithereens.

Gingerly sitting down the ingredients on the table, Hermione eyes the instructions upon the board. Harry watched her purse her lips and shake her head. No, that would not do. The instructions said to add the fair wing before the knotgrass, but she knew it would be less potent that way. It also said to mince the lizard leg first, but Hermione believed it would fare better whole and to be put in at the beginning of brewing.

“We will not be following those,” Hermione grumbled at Harry. Harry shrugged as if to say, as you will, and waited for her to tell him what to do. Hermione smiled back at him, pleased at his ease in breaking the rules and his willingness to follow her.

“Turn the flame on, very low, and add 30 milliliters of honeywater,” she instructed easily. Harry was always good at following the directions and wasn’t being distracted by Ron. He did as she asked, while she inspected the lizard leg. When she noticed the honeywater had begun to simmer, she dropped in the lizard leg. “Don’t let it boil, and stir counterclockwise three times before adding the knotgrass in five minutes.”

Hermione prepared the knotgrass, inspecting the blades carefully before mincing them. The class passed on this way. Hermione would painstakingly inspect and prepare the ingredients, while Harry followed her instructions to the letter. Neither of them had noticed their Professor scrutinizing their actions, or the precise way in which Hermione was treating the ingredients.

All Hermione had done, for nearly three months, was study magic and ingredients. She could see what ingredients gave off the most latent magical power, and which did not fit well in this potion. Her magic intuitively reached out to the ingredients now, as if she were working on wand creation. She had noticed her magic would sometimes make a leap in thought that would have taken her days before, and a month last year. Her magic was growing, and it grew because she fed her knowledge with the basic building blocks of magic. She realized, as they were bottling their potion for inspection, that he had been lacking a lot of basic knowledge about magic and wondered if it was like this for everyone who was a Muggle-Born. She also realized creating a wand from ingredients was not all that different from creating a potion, one was simply liquid.

She raised her hand for Professor Snape to come and inspect their work. He quirked an eyebrow and stalked over, robes billowing behind him and grim features. “This should have taken you the entire class period. Let’s see how bungled up it is.”

Hermione merely stood impassive while Harry glared at their professor. Harry was never going to get along with Severus Snape. “The color and scent seem to be correct, and the magical signature seems spot on. Why don’t you try it and see if you’ve managed to correctly brew it?” Snape challenged.

The curly-haired witch rolled her eyes, and down a portion of the potion quickly. She was pleased it tasted more like mint, and less like Polyjuice. “Satisfied? I’m not one of the dunderheads you’re always cursing, Professor Snape.” At this Snape raised an eyebrow. Two in five minutes. Hermione must be shocking him. Hermione mimicked his raised eyebrow and continued, “Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four. Potter, Weasley, detention with me Friday!” She copied him expertly and started to laugh at her own antics.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the witch, nodded, and walked away without another word to prowl the classroom circuit. Meanwhile, Hermione was shocked she hadn’t received detention for that. If she was meant to guess, the sound of himself laughing had put him off any further conversation.

“Blimey Hermione, I’m not sure I like Snape’s voice coming out of your mouth,” Harry teased with a smile.

“It only lasts for a while. I didn’t even take a full dose so it will be less than an hour,” Hermione replied with a shrug.

“How did you get the potion to do that? I wasn’t focusing on a person at all,” Harry asked.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him before she answered. “I prepared all the ingredients. I knew you would be too focused on doing exactly what was needed, the stirring and the counting, so I focused for us both.”

“I didn’t even know you could do it that way,” mumbled Draco, sat on her left side.

Hermione nodded, “You can but it doesn’t work if both people are focusing on a person for the potion to mimic. The person brewing almost needs a singular focus on the potion brewing. Then the preparer can focus on the person they want to mimic as they’re working. It’s easier to be absorbed in counting sires and timing ingredient drops, so it worked. But, if I were to work with someone like Snape, or even Malfoy, we would have had to agree on the same person beforehand or you get conflicting results. Or It could result in a null potion altogether. Harry here, well he’s very good at focusing on one thing at a time,” she explained in her Snape voice.

“Should I be offended?” Harry asked.

Hermione laughed again, “No, we couldn’t have done it this way otherwise.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. You’re right I’m usually too focused on the one thing to have been doing both and done it properly,” Harry agreed.

“Miss Granger-Ollivander, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, Mr. Nott, you four stay after class. The rest of you should clean up and bottle a sample. I want an eight-inch essay to be turned in the next class period about the uses of the Potion of Mimicry. You’re free to go,” Snape announced cooly.

Harry shot Hermione with a sympathetic look as he parked his items and left her alone in the snake den. Hermione shrugged at him, nearly positive it had nothing to do with the days’ assignment, and shooed him out the door with her hands.

Once the classroom had emptied, Snape beckoned them forward to the desk at the front of the classroom. “You four are up to something, and you’ll be telling me what that is, now,” the Professor said sternly.

“I’m not sure what you could be referring to, Professor Snape. It’s the first day of classes,” remarked Blaise.

“Hermione fought to keep the smile off her face, knowing good and well that the first day of classes didn’t necessarily preclude Hermione from being up to something. Snape narrowed his eyes at the students.

“Truly Professor, we just want a good potions grade,” cut in Theo.

“Honestly, we haven’t done anything aside from coming to class and go to breakfast, sir,” Hermione said.

Draco flinched, “While it hurts to agree with Ollivander and her very disconcerting voice, we haven’t done anything.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. He wasn’t buying any of what they were selling, but he couldn’t very well administer Veritaserum to four underage students simply because he was suspicious of them. He was also suspicious of the fact that not once had he seen a fight between Potter and Malfoy, and they were always spitting at each other if they were close enough. No, something was awry here. Snape was aware that Hermione had been adopted, but it couldn’t be that simple, could it?

“Fine, you may go, except for Miss Granger-Ollivander,” Snape dismissed. “Honestly you should shorten your name. It’s too much even for a swot.”

“Was that a joke, sir? I only ask because Mr. Malfoy here has told me the same thing. Miss Ollivander will suffice. Have I done something wrong?”

Snape studied her and thought sincerely about taking points for rolling her eyes earlier in class. He had found her changed demeanor so much more likable, however, he refrained from doing so lest he invite the overeager swot back out of spite. “Not necessarily. I was curious as to how you had found that those ingredients would also work for this potion since most of the ones you used were not in the recipe on the board.”

“Oh! Is that all? Er – well, sir, this is hard to explain out loud. You are aware of who my Grandfather is, yes?” When Snape affirmed, Hermione continued on, “I’ve spent the better part of the past three months doing nothing but studying magic and the creation of wands. Wands, like potions, have some ingredients which will work better than others. I’ve sort of developed an ability to…for the lack of a better description, “see” which ingredients would work best together. As long as you know their basic attributes you can make just about anything. It isn’t exactly intuitive, but it’s like I’m letting my magic lead.”

Professor Snape steepled his fingers and placed them against his mouth, elbows resting on his desk, as he thought. That would explain it, after all. She had always been a dab hand at potions but she had lacked any intuition. Was it something as simple as her not knowing that some ingredients would not work well together? Most children brought up in a magical home would have been surrounded by this knowledge. They would have been able to ask their parents or other relatives about the “why” of things and had a magical explanation. Hermione had never lacked intelligence, but perhaps she had been missing some basic stepping stones that magical children simply took for granted.

“So you’re saying that before this summer, you lacked the knowledge of ingredients at their most basic and could not determine which ones would work well together without express instruction?”

“Yes, that about sums it up. It’s not something I knew to look for instruction in. It’s not something that’s taught in classes. Muggle-born students are at a severe disadvantage in ways like that. I wasn’t raised with this knowledge; I wasn’t raised to understand some plants like each other better than others. In hindsight, it makes a lot of sense, but if you’re never told how are you to know? Coming into the Wizarding world is already extremely difficult, you don’t know anyone and you don’t know what to expect, and no one bothers to teach the most basic of things. Etiquette, for example? Or how certain herbs are happiest and more potent when paired with other specific herbs? I’m starting to get what Luna is always on about now. I think she can always see auras of power so she can follow her intuition to see solutions or problems the rest of us don’t. I’m only able to do it with ingredients, or when I’m trying to make a wand for the most part. Though I have managed to pair witches and wizards with their wands, and I can sometimes get a better understanding of a spell after concentrating and trying it a few times now…” Hermione trailed off, finally realizing she had been rambling to her dour and snarking Potions Professor. Who amazingly had not interrupted? He hadn’t even sneered. Hermione smiled sheepishly at him, knowing it annoyed him how much she talked most of the time.

Snape seemed surprised at her last statement. “You mean to tell me you’ve already been able to pair students with their wands?”

“Oh! Yes, sir. I matched Draco Malfoy with the wand he is using now. I’ve not yet heard any complaints, so I suppose I did alright. He wouldn’t have hesitated over my feelings,” Hermione chuckled.

“Miss Ollivander, it took Garrick, your Grandfather, years of study before he matched another person to their wand. Within months, you’ve managed to progress to that point. It would explain it, very well. It would make sense to me that you’ve been missing some of the most basic things. I will allow you to substitute ingredients and tweak some recipes for your potions. However, you must brew one to my instructions on the board, and another of your own making. I will grade both for you, and if you manage to improve upon the original, I will give you extra credit. If  _ anything _ , and I mean anything, seems awry with your potion you are to bring it to my attention immediately. I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous unstable potions can be?”

“I.. No, sir. I understand, and thank you, sir,” Hermione was definitely taken aback by the knowledge that her Grandfather had taken years before he could match a wizard to their wand. The fact that Snape would allow her to experiment, that was another beast, entirely. Hell may have frozen over. He told her he would give her extra credit! Snape! He did not give out extra credit, ever.

Professor Snape nodded, scrawled her a pass on a spare bit of parchment, and sent her on her way to her next class. Hermione had arrived late to Herbology, but Professor Sprout didn’t bother once she’d seen the pass to dock points. Hermione sat next to Harry and Neville, absently repotting the baby tentanculas as requested. They weren’t venomous yet, perfect for repotting.

Hermione managed to pull herself out of her reverie long enough to be social at lunch. She had the rest of the day free, so she went off to the library to get started on her homework for the first few weeks of classes. Most other students would be taking part in Quidditch tryouts now, or other electives. Hermione, thankfully, had free periods on days where she had double classes. She knew she would need it throughout the year.

Hermione felt her journal heat up next to her arm, so she pulled it across her parchment to see what was going on now.

‘Theo – Are you in the library?’

‘Hermione to Theo – Yes, aren’t I always?’

‘Theo-Care to study together before dinner?’

‘Hermione to Theo – Sure, I’m working on my potions assignment now.’

‘Theo- On our way.’

‘Hermione – Wait, all three of you?’

‘Draco – Obviously, witch.’

Hermione rolled her eyes and made some space for her Slytherin cohorts, who were apparently all on their way down to the library. Hermione wasn’t sure it was wise, but it wouldn’t hurt to further their friendships in the eyes of other people. Apparently, sticking it to Parkinson had been the right move. She had undoubtedly confirmed that Hermione had always been a Half-Blood, therefore causing the whole house to reevaluate her. It wasn’t exactly what Hermione had in mind, she was mostly concerned with shutting Parkinson up forever, but it wouldn’t hurt her plans to unite Hogwarts either. Blood supremacy was so stupid. Unfortunately, Hermione was all too aware of the fact that prejudice lived everywhere one might go.

Hermione wondered what the hell Dumbledore had been hoping to improve with allowing these house rivalries to continue, and to become so ingrained in the lives of their students that most would never even befriend another person from another house. It didn’t foster inclusion. How was that for the “greater good” of the wizarding world? Why wasn’t there an appropriate Muggle Studies course? Hermione had seen the current syllabus and it was all about the Salem Witch Trials, which was ridiculous. That was not what was happening out there right now. And why didn’t Muggle-Born students have a class to help them ease into the Wizarding world a little bit easier? It was hard enough, but not knowing the social mores and taboos of the new world immediately started them off on the wrong foot. How was that a benefit to anyone other than Albus fucking Dumbledore?

“Why do you look so cross?”

Hermione looked to see Draco studying her from across the table. She must have been thoroughly lost in thought not to hear him or Blaise or Theo approach. She smiled, “Just pondering the wrongs of the world, and how to fix them.”

“Ah, I see. Ever the Gryff, yeah?” Blaise smirked at her.

“Shut it, Zabini. I’m allowed to ponder hypotheticals in my spare time. I was waiting on all of you to show up, anyway,” Hermione said blithely.

“Of course, Hermione. I’ll just stow away all my opinions which might upset your Slytherin sensibilities,” Blaise scoffed at her.

Theo just shook his head and took the seat across from her. Blaise sat next to him, and Draco plopped down next to her. “What did Snape want after we left class?”

“Oh, not much Draco. He was wondering how I had figured out how to use different ingredients, is all.” Hermione shrugged at him, “He’s going to let me experiment with them in class.”

“That’s…impressive. He doesn’t do that for just anyone,” Theo commented.

“I know, so if we’re speaking in public, I’m going to be keeping one of you three as my partners from now on. I love Harry, but he’s just not going to be able to handle my split attention,” Hermione laughed.

“Fine, fine. Smooth moves with Parkinson, by the way. She’s been blabbing to everyone who will listen,” Draco smirked.

“Well, it wasn’t really my intention but at least I don’t have to tell anyone myself,” Hermione huffed.

“That is true. Plus Patil has been blabbing, too. I don’t think you’ll have to do much other than answer the inevitable questions that come your way,” Draco replied.

“You’re probably right about that, but I’m already prepared for it. A demonstration is worth a thousand words,” Hermione grinned. Seeing the blank looks of her tablemates, she pulled a spelled parchment out of her bag and duplicated it for each of them.

“Go ahead, test your own blood and see what happens,” Hermione said.

“You cloned the Ministry test parchment?” asked Theo, in awe.

Hermione nodded, “I had a little bit of help.”

Draco was the first to try it, pricking his finger with a muttered _diffindo_ and smearing some blood on the parchment. After he had healed his finger his entire family line was clear and delineated. “Interesting. I didn’t know we had Prewett blood…”

Hermione shrugged, “If anyone doubts me they can test their own blood and watch me test mine. I just feel like this will be faster.”

“It’s also got the added benefit of shutting people up who would malign your blood status, if they find out theirs isn’t oh so pure, too,” Blaise commented wryly.

“Got it in one,” Hermione grinned at him.

They all laughed, and Blaise and Theo tested their blood as well. Turns out, they had family they weren’t even aware of in their family trees. That boded well for Hermione, and the point she was trying to make. Blood was blood. Magic was magic. What was really lacking was a modicum of understanding between Pureblooded wizards and those who were born in the Muggle world, and that, Hermione could fix with time.

Hermione cast a silent muffliato around their table, “So, you guys are fine then? No one found out about the rescue?”

Draco’s face went blank, which Hermione took as a bad sign. “We’re all fine, Hermione. We weren’t found out, as you put it, but we were definitely under suspicion,” Theo said.

“Well, that’s one of the reasons I want you guys to meet me tonight. Is eight okay? I think we can help each other in that regard.”

“Sure, yeah. We can cast disillusionment charms,” Draco said.

“Okay, then we’ll meet tonight. Otherwise, let’s get this assignment over with. I’ve got Advanced Charms tomorrow and I don’t want to be thinking about this in class,” Hermione replied, canceling the silenced bubble with a wave of her hand.

“How did you get so good at wandless magic?” Blaise asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Hermione laughed, “I didn’t even notice. I worked a lot this summer. You can’t use a wand when you’re making a wand. It interferes with the magic. That’s all I can tell you though,” Hermione hedged.

“Of course, keep your secrets,” Theo prodded.

“Get to work. We have dinner in an hour and I don’t want to deal with the stares any longer than I have to,” Hermione sulked.

“It’ll work itself out, Hermione,” Blaise consoled.

Hermione just smiled at him, hoping he was correct. She cracked her book open and took her own advice. She had already read through this years’ assigned texts, so she knew which book to reference. She wasn’t shocked to see the three boys at her table pull out the same book. It was nice to study with people who appreciated the knowledge, for a change. The four students were so absorbed in their work, they hadn’t seen the telltale red hair of a Weasley slink back behind a bookcase, turn on his heel, and exit the library in a dither.


	13. What A Ruckus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Champions are chosen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here you have it. It's a little bit early. :)

Hermione was quietly pleased throughout her study session with her Slytherin friends. It really was lovely not to be asked the simplest of questions; of course, the information being asked after would have already been known if one had bothered to do their assigned reading. Her internal huff was quite undignified, but as she was the only witness, she refused to let it bother her, much. She was willing to police her outer expressions and toe the line regarding manners, but she refused to give way to her inner thoughts and actions. Those, she thought, she could very well keep for herself.

She found herself happy for the comfortable, and mostly silent company in the library. She had managed to not only complete her assignment but have it fact-checked by others who were also rather well educated and capable of completing assignments on time without her having to nag them. There were a few minor disagreements and academic arguments, though Hermione found she was enjoying those. Especially since they never got out of hand and it was all done in a hushed whisper. Whosoever dared disturbed the tranquility of the library could and would be shunned by Madam Pince. Hermione had this happen enough when Ron was in a snit and she found it doubtful she could forgive him. Often, Hermione worked alone for this reason banning anyone from approaching and asking her questions in the library. This rule was often broken if the individual was not, in fact, Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Conversation was not constant, though there were some mutterings to her left as Draco read through his assignment, and occasionally scoffed at his text. She found it didn’t annoy her as much as it might have, finding the text to be lacking in several respects. When the proofreading began, there were arguments about why one ingredient would work better than another, or how removing one and adding another could yield the same potion but with fewer ingredients. Hermione came to realize that she was missing a lot in her magical education and was thankful for her Opa for his willingness to answer her unending questions.

Against her better judgment, Hermione decided to admit ignorance and ask some questions of the peers around her. “Alright, so, while I am following this conversation because it so closely relates to what I have been training in all summer, there are still things I don’t really understand. I know that being a Muggle-born has definite drawbacks, and I can see now how being submerged in magic your entire life could sort of foster ill will, but honestly, why don’t Muggle-Borns have an introductory class or something?”

Draco and Theo shared a look before Draco replied. “I’m not sure, really. It became clear, rather early on, that you were gifted with magic but that you didn’t grasp basic knowledge of some things. I had actually considered that you simply wouldn’t have known, because you didn’t have a nanny or a Mum who knew these things and you hadn’t been taught them from the cradle-like the rest of us. Potions is a perfect example. You were always able to create a suitable potion, but now you can manipulate them and just understand things you couldn’t before, right?”

Hermione nodded, “It’s like my magic just tells me what would work and what wouldn’t sometimes. Like it does when I’m trying to match a person with a wand.”

“I guess in a way it’s like that for us all the time. We are constantly surrounded by our magic and we have always known it is there. Were you aware affinities with certain kinds of magic run through bloodlines?” Hermione shook her head in response. “It does. Blacks are good with Transfiguration, and some are good with Divination though that one is rare. Malfoy’s have a good grasp on Healing and Curse-Breaking. The Potter’s used to be Aurors a lot of the time, so Defense, not really shocking there. The Weasley’s have always been good with Charms, but the Prewett’s were wonderful with inventing new spells and Arithmancy. These are just some examples. Occasionally you have someone who is good at a lot of things, but a lot of bloodlines seems to be specialized. I think it’s because the people surrounding us are so good and almost intuitively understand what they are doing that we have a better understanding. Magic isn’t cut and dry, and a lot of it can be achieved different ways with the same results. It’s partly intuitive and if you don’t know how to trust your magic not to steer you wrong, if you get bogged down in the instructions and ignore all of the theory and other possibilities, you’re going to miss what your magic is saying to you. Does that make any sense?”

Hermione looked at Draco, eyes wide with surprise. Not only was that the most he had ever said to her at once, with no insults, but it was in fact quite clear. Basically, she had been ignoring the gift she had been trying so hard to embrace, because no one had bothered to explain this to her. “I believe it does, though if you had put it this way four months ago, it would not have. I have spent a lot of time submerged in theoretical situations as of late, and it forced me to rely on trial and error. That’s probably how I started to grasp what my magic was saying to me. And you all have been doing this since you were much younger than me?”

Hermione looked across the table to find Blaise and Theo nodding along. “It’s the difference in having talent but no practice, and then learning to do both at once. It’s just a matter of finding out how your magic speaks to you,” Theo added.

“This is so very interesting! How would one teach another to find their magic like this?” Hermione asked in an excited whisper.

“Well, my Mum had me do basic things around the house from a young age. Simple things you know, like using cleaning charms. She would not tell me much aside from the wand movement and incantation, but I would figure it out pretty quickly. When you’re a child you believe things a little more easily than you would as an adult, or even an older child. You’re not so jaded, and if you believe your magic is pulling you in a certain direction, who’s to say it’s not? If it manifests as an aura or a light trail? So it is. I would wager it’s different for everyone,” Blaise replied.

“My Father had me doing meditation at a young age to stop my endless reading, that’s when it happened for me,” Theo supplied.

“It was when I learned to fly that it really clicked for me, how to see and listen to my magic,” Draco sounded wistful.

“You know, that makes sense for all of you. Mine was when I was immersed in a magical research project…” Hermione smiled wanly. The boys around her shared a laugh at her expense, not all that shocked Hermione had finally learned to listen to her magic surrounded in piles of books.

“It’s an odd thing for everyone. I don’t know why they don’t stress this to Muggle-Born students as first years. I mean honestly, if you could have understood it then, do you think you would have had any issues with that Troll?” Draco scoffed.

“I told you about that in confidence!” Hermione screeched at him, nudging his shoulder. “Besides, I lived. The troll situation was not something I would like to repeat, however. Such an odor!”

Draco laughed at her crinkled nose and thought to himself she looked rather cute just then. He could not blame her at all, a troll would likely cause much grief to one’s olfactory senses. He was happier than he could say not to have experienced such a stench, yet. “Do you all have the time? It must be nearing time for dinner at this point?”

Theo checked a watch which was around his wrist. “We are actually a few minutes late, so we should get going.”

Hermione moved to pack her things away for the evening but couldn’t stop herself asking, “Theodore Nott, where did you get a watch which functions inside this castle? I need one, posthaste.”

Theo smiled and only stated that he might be persuaded to reveal his sources if Hermione would allow him to escort her to the Great Hall. Hermione rolled her eyes but saw no harm in it. She took his arm and the four of them left to dinner, Draco carrying her backpack for her. Hermione was not looking forward to more gossip at dinner, but she was glad to have new friends even if her old ones didn’t quite understand the new ones. Besides, Theo Nott was an intelligent person, and her arrival with them to dinner would be cause for more gossip. It might, however, be gossip that helped her to solidify the rumors. 

As predicted, the Great Hall was ridiculously loud. Generally, the room was full of murmuring sounds and clacking silverware, but Hermione was fairly certain all the ruckus was gossip. Unfortunately, that’s an inevitability when hundreds of teenagers are living in the same space. She rather wished it were not the reality of the situation, but there was nothing to be done for it.

When she entered the Hall with her three compatriots, many sets of eyes moved to observe them. The smile which had been on Hermione’s lips promptly fell away and was instead displaced with an inscrutable flatness. She mourned her easy laughter from moments ago, but one could only handle so much scrutinizing, and Hermione loathed for the attention.

She thanked Theo for courteously escorting her, and likewise Draco for carrying down her things. After handing Hermione back her bag, she and her friends parted ways to opposite sides of the Great Hall to eat dinner. She almost would have sat with them but did not want anymore nastiness and she was not convinced the rumor mill had adequately done its job yet. Pansy Parkinson was a gossip, but there was only so much one witch could do in a few hours’ time. She would be seeing her friends in a short while anyway, and she could use the spare moments to construct a _brief_ mental outline before trying to speak to them about it. They were likely to think her ideas were mad after all.

Hermione walked up the table until she found Neville, Harry, and Ginny. She was pleased to find a good spot even though she had come in late. She did not fancy sitting next to Ron or Patil and try to eat her meal. No, thank you. Hermione scooted in next to Ginny and began to fill her plate while exchanging hellos with everyone. Ron, she noticed, was continuing the trend of sitting farther away from them with Dean and Seamus. Given the three of them were shooting daggers at her, she thought it was just as well. She made it a point to ignore them as much as possible and get on with her evening. Ronald Weasley had a hot temper, and he was not known for cooling off quickly.

“How was your day, guys?”

“Oh, you know, animals trying to nibble me to death, the usual,” Harry answered with a smile.

“Hagrid sure knows how to ensure an injury,” Neville offered.

“You would think he would have learned, what with the baby dragon and all,” Ginny smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “What _beautiful creature_ did he have in store for you this time?”

“Baby acromantulas,” Harry grinned at her, while she dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“He most certainly did not learn his lesson,” Ginny remarked firmly.

“I’m not sure Hagrid will ever learn that particular lesson,” Neville chimed in. “Those bloody books were a menace!”

Hermione hummed her acceptance through her laughter. Hagrid simply loved all of his creatures. “At least the venom can’t kill you, yet.”

Harry and Neville both laughed but agreed. “It didn’t stop them trying though,” remarked Neville.

Having met a fully grown Aragog in third year, Harry would be quite content to keep his distance, thank you ever so. And no, in fact, he did _not_ want to have a spider the size of a large squirrel perched on his shoulder. No, and thank you to never ask again. He was not terrified of them like Ron, but he had a certain distaste for large spiders near his person these days.

Ginny jumped in next asking the question Hermione simply refused to ask, “Did Ron wet himself? Or did he just faint?”

Harry and Neville laughed uproariously because neither option was unbelievable. “Oh, he fainted. Then refused to participate in the class,” Harry said, cracking a grin. Hermione just shook her head. She could believe it.

Neville cleared his throat, indicating a change of subject. “I couldn’t help but notice your new friends escorting you to dinner, Hermione.”

“Was there a question, Neville?” Hermione returned tersely. She did not want to discuss this, and she was certainly unwilling to do so at dinner at a table of lions who held their own prejudices near and dear to their hearts.

“Well, I guess I just don’t understand it? Malfoy has bullied you, or rather tried to, for years.”

Sighing, Hermione exchanged a look with Ginny. Ginny and Luna were her vaults. They did not speak a word about anything Hermione told them, and she was so grateful she finally had that. Knowing Neville was only concerned for her well-being, she decided to give him an answer. “We’re…tentative friends. Some things happened that I will not discuss here, but we spent time together over the summer. My Grandfather knows Blaise’s grandmother. They’re not so bad, really, and again there are things I won’t discuss in the open but suffice it to say they’ve earned my hesitant trust.”

Of course, they had probably saved her life at a possible great detriment to themselves, but Hermione knew better than to declare absolute trust in them so soon. Besides, it wouldn’t have been…exactly true. Only Ginny and Luna knew about the fact Draco Malfoy had written her over the summer after she had broken his nose, and before she had been adopted. His letter had said a great many things and held several apologies. Only Ginny and Luna knew sometimes Hermione had met Theo in the library to study, because he could keep up with her and was conversationally engaging. Blaise was, for a change, new to her, but she found him easy enough to get along with knowing his Nona would skin him alive if he treated her poorly. He was mostly harmless with his flirtations, and he had a way of bringing a very calm vibe to those around him.

No, that would be too much information all at once. And it would be too much information to tell them the truth about why she was picked on. It would be too much truth at once to tell them she had been friends with two out of the three boys for longer than they knew, but now they could be openly friendly. Definitely too much, and definitely not something to be said in the open where anyone could hear them.

Neville looked thoughtful for a moment and then shrugged. “Okay, good enough. You can tell me if you want, but I trust your judgment, Hermione. They’re kids, just like us, you know?”

Hermione smiled and thanked him, grateful that Neville always seemed to have a very thoughtful and level head. Unlike some. The conversation turned to potions shortly after that, and what Professor Snape had wanted with her after class. Hermione was much more willing to discuss this topic, and so she rehashed her earlier explanation and conversation in the library.

Harry, Neville, and Ginny remained silent as Hermione let loose a deluge of words in their direction, thoughtful looks on their faces. Hermione could tell they were interested in what she was saying, they didn’t have that glazed overlook in their eyes. She could also sense she had attracted some attention from the Ravenclaw table, though it was not all that uncommon, so she didn’t bother tracking them or pay them any mind. They would speak up if they had something to impart, Ravenclaw’s liked knowledge.

“You know, I never really thought of that, but it does make a lot of sense. Then again, I was brought up magical, and Gran stull thought I might be a squib. Though, I suppose that’s neither here nor there because I’ve always been around magic and taught to listen for it, listen to it,” Neville offered.

“So, do you actually hear your magic?” Hermione asked, eyes alight at the idea.

Neville chuckled at her excitement. “I suppose I do, but we’d better get some food in you, Hermione. Dinner is almost done, and you’ve barely eaten.”

Hermione scrunched her nose, “Fine, but I reserve the right to pester you about it later. What about you Ginny, Harry? How do you interact with your magic?”

When Ginny pointedly stared at her plate, she sighed and then began to pick at her meal again. Only then did Harry answer her question. “I’m not sure I’ve really developed a _sense_ for my magic, honestly. The only time I can remember feeling at home with it, or like it was leading me, is when I used my Patronus last year…and I suppose I felt it might have been letting me know a hex was coming my way a time or two.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide at this, remembering what Draco had imparted about family bloodlines and kinships with certain magical skills. She finisher her bite and told him he should see about working with Professor Flitwick, knowing he had been a dueling master before. Maybe he would even start a dueling club, and it might help Harry hone his bond with his magic. Harry, ever the dutiful friend, promised he would inquire about this _if_ she would finish her blood meal already.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione went about finished off her meal as requested and looked over at Ginny. She was curious to see if Ginny knew how to listen to her magic. Ginny looked back at Hermione nonplussed, but sighed before replying, “Mum made us meditate until we could feel our magic. I’m not sure how it is for the others, but mine always feels like a lead. If something is happening and I’m doing it incorrectly, or if I’m about to fall, it’s like my magic tugs me a little to warn me. I just learned to listen to it.”

“That is so interesting! I wonder if it’s different for everyone,” Hermione mused. She decided to let the subject drop for now. Harry had promised he would speak with Professor Flitwick, so she knew he would. “Honestly, they need to have a proper class set aside for Muggle-Born students to learn this type of thing. It was like allowing a sixteen-year-old to drive a car without enforcing attendance to Driver’s Education first. Poorly managed. I don’t see why there is a class about Muggle’s but not one about how to be a witch or wizard. It would have helped immensely in the first year to learn more about the culture and the things we _are apparently expected to know and understand._ ”

No one answered her, but Harry did nod his agreement. Finally finished eating, Hermione pushed her plate away to see most of the school, and certainly all their guests still in attendance in the Great Hall. “Why is literally everyone still here? Normally the Hall empties rather quickly at dinner.”

“Oh, you missed that because you came in late. You see the Goblet, yes? The drawing for the Champions is going to be tonight so everyone is waiting around to see who gets chosen,” Harry explained. The excitement was plain on his face, but honestly, Hermione didn’t understand it. The tournament was rather barbaric, really.

“That makes sense,” she hedged. The Tri-Wizard Tournament hadn’t happened in many years and could be exciting if you also thought that signing away your life was a good idea. She had read about it, of course, In order to officially become a Champion of the school, you had to sign a rather extensive contract, a binding legal agreement, which happened to include that you entered of your own free will and the school could not be held accountable in the event of your death. No, thank you. Hermione was far too sensible to enter a tournament if the proctors of said tournament could not be arsed to guarantee the safety of children. It was why you had to be seventeen to enter, as it was the legal age of majority. You couldn’t sign any legal bindings or enter into certain oaths unless you were of age. “And thank Merlin for that,” she thought.

Moments later, Dumbledore stood and approached the Goblet. He did a complicated wand movement and the Goblet spat out a singed piece of paper. Before opening and reading the name, Dumbledore first imparted some knowledge. “Remember, if you are chosen and you decide that you do not want to proceed with being the Champion, you may decline, and we will choose a new school Champion. You are required to sign a binding magical agreement to be the Champion of your school, and the eventuality of your death notwithstanding, death has happened in the tournament before. The proctors endeavor to ensure the safety of all the participants, but it does happen,” he intoned gravely.

“Now, without further ado: The Champion for Durmstrang is...Viktor Krum!” After the applause and congratulations had died down some, Dumbledore spoke again. “Please come up to the front with your Headmaster. Once we have called all Champions, we will convene privately to cover details.”

Viktor Krum, that Bulgarian Seeker Ron was always mooning over, and another rather off-putting wizard strutted up to the front and stepped to the side behind Dumbledore to wait for the other participants.

Dumbledore did the complicated wand movement again and murmured something quietly and the Goblet produced another singed strip of parchment which flew into his hand. “The Beauxbatons Champion is…Fleur Delacour!” More applause and congratulations, then she and her Headmistress, a rather large woman, went to stand next to the duo from Durmstrang.

Repeating the process for the third and final time, Dumbledore unfolded the paper and announced, “The Hogwarts Tri-Wizard Champion is…Cedric Diggory! Please come and join us at the front.” He imparted a smile at his student as the applause and yells reached a cacophony Hermione truly wished would cease immediately. She was getting a headache.

“Cedric is clever,” Hermione commented. She thought he should be just fine. Neville was nodding his agreement, as was Harry.

Dumbledore was in the middle of dismissing the rest of the students back to their evening when a fourth sheaf of paper blew out of the Goblet, and into his hand. Dumbledore fell silent and looked positively dumbstruck. This had never occurred before, and it certainly should not have occurred now.

“What does it say, Headmaster Dumbledore?” asked the new Defense teacher. Hermione had not had his class yet, but she had an odd feeling about him. He did not _feel_ like teaching material. She did not trust him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and opened the parchment to see which name it may have spit out. The Hall was so quiet a baby Kneazle sneeze would have been heard throughout. His face turned stormy, then thoughtful, and then serious. It was such a quick flurry of emotion across his face, Hermione _almost_ missed it.

“Harry Potter,” and for the first time this year, several sets of eyes looking in Hermione’s direction were not actually searching her out but were instead looking for her best friend. Hermione turned to look at Harry too, horror plastered plain as day on her face.

“What?” Harry asked quietly. He was pale. So very pale that Hermione worried he might be going into shock. There were quiet murmurs of outrage and glares, but Hermione didn’t really notice. She was too focused on her friend.

“You have been selected, please come to the front so we can figure this out. Everyone else is dismissed.” Dumbledore had to shout over the protesting voices and cries of congratulations alike, because of course, he was going to try and make Harry go through with it.

Hermione shook her head, violently, pulled herself up from the bench, and followed. No, she was not letting this happen. He was only fourteen years old! Fourteen! No, absolutely not, and Sirius would _never_ allow it. She caught up to Harry just as he had reached everyone else, plans shifting and forming into a cohesive plot of action as she strode determinately towards them all.

“Miss Ollivander, you’ve no need to come. Mr. Potter and I can figure this out by ourselves, I think,” came Dumbledore’s tremulous voice and genial smile.

Hermione did not smile. Hermione thought an alligator might smile like that right before it snatched its unsuspecting prey. “No, I don’t think so, sir. I’m well-versed in Wizarding law, as you might remember. I was the one who cleared Sirius when you could not, and I will not have my _fourteen-year-old_ best friend competing in this tournament when he is woefully underage and does not have a guardian present to give consent,” she spat at him, acid and disdain dripping from her words.

“You are not an accomplished legal practitioner, Miss Ollivander,” Dumbledore said sternly. Hermione was not deterred, not in the slightest.

“She’s quite right, Albus. Mr. Potter is too young. He obviously didn’t enter his own name as a stunt, look at the lad,” came the voice of reason. Professor McGonagall always seemed to know when to appear. Hermione idly wondered if it was a cat thing.

Stealing the moment, she could Hermione got her Head of House’s attention. “Professor McGonagall, perhaps we should have Sirius here?”

The stern woman took her meaning immediately and sent off her Patronus to find Harry’s guardian. Hermione looked to be holding Harry up, who still seemed to be somewhat dazed. “Of course, Miss Ollivander. Good thinking. If this was done to see Mr. Potter harmed in some way then his guardian should absolutely be made aware.”

Hermione thanked her Professor and looked up to see her Headmaster scrutinizing her. She met his eyes with a fiery determination. Nothing would dissuade her, and she was making it quite evident. When a Gryffindor got that look, you were done for, and she let him feel the ire she held for him in her eyes. Perhaps not her plan, but it was there all the same. He wasn’t going to have a choice but to allow her entry, Minerva was backing her, and too many students had already seen the altercation. Dumbledore did not understand why she would simply not do what she had been told.

“Alright then, the lot of you. Follow me, please,” and the old wizard led the group of seven into a room which was just behind and to the right of the staff table.

Hermione kept her hand on Harry’s arm, giving him silent support. She would not leave him, and she wanted to make sure she knew it. She spotted a chair and started to guide him toward it. The Defense professor had followed them into the room, though Hermione was fine to ignore him as long as she got Harry sitting, and soon.

“What is the meaning of this?! Alastor, you told me, assured me, the Goblet had been made tamper-evident,” barked a very unpleasant dark-haired man. He must have already been waiting for them in the room because Hermione didn’t remember seeing him in the Great Hall. “This is unacceptable!”

“Now, wait a minute Crouch! I said no _student_ should be able to tamper with it, and he obviously has not! Look at him! The boy looks as if he might faint!” Moody growled and gesticulated wildly at Harry. He was not wrong about the fainting.

Hermione got more irritated by this man. “Honestly, are you a Defense teacher, or aren’t you?! He’s in shock he’s so terrified!” Hermione screeched at the room. She did not give a damn if he was a former, current, or the most prolific Auror to have ever lived. Harry was her family. She got him firmly seated in the chair and called for Dotty. She was not sure she would be available, but Hermione knew dotty always listened for her.

Apparently, Hermione had succeeded in shocking the rest of the room into silence, which was just as well. She was cognizant that her hair was nearly sentient with magic, sparking wildly with her anger. Her wonderful friend Dotty popped silently and directly next to her, took one look at the situation, and snapped her fingers. She handed a bar of chocolate to Hermione with aplomb and narrowed her eyes in judgment at the rest of the room.

“Thank you, Dotty. Could you please do me another task? Sirius is taking a rather long while to get here, can you please find him and bring him to us?” Dotty only nodded and disappeared again. The room remained quiet, the only sound was Hermione unwrapping the chocolate bar and handing a piece to Harry. He moved mechanically but took it. Hermione was going to take that as a good sign. Hermione thought she may have seen Professor McGonagall’s mouth upturn slightly, but when she looked a little closer, she had the same stern facial expression as always.

Moments later, Dotty reappeared with an extremely irate Sirius Black. The Black temper of legend was upon him in full force, as he eyed the state of his Godson. He took notice that it was Hermione standing next to him feeding him chocolate. Why was he not being treated properly for shock?

“Thank you so much, Dotty,” Hermione said, breaking the spell of silence.

“You are most welcome, Miss. I will see you later, we have lessons,” Dotty gave her a meaningful look and Hermione only nodded. She knew they didn’t have a lesson planned for tonight, but Dotty wanted to speak with her, and Dotty had yet to steer her wrong.

“Yes, thank you, Dotty!” Sirius yelled after she had already gone. “Minerva had sent for me, but _for some reason,_ MY ENTRANCE WAS BARRED! What the bloody hell is going on? Why does my son look like he’s faced off with a hundred dementors? Why in the fuck has he not been checked over by Madam Pomfrey? And what in the hell is wrong with all of you that a fifteen-year-old witch and student under your care is more intelligent and intuitive?! He will NOT be competing and that is bloody fucking final Dumbledore! I will call in the fucking Wizengamot and stall this fucking tournament FOREVER because he is not of age and he did not put his bloody name in that fucking cup! Do I make myself clear? Or does someone want to argue with me right now?”

Mr. Crouch seemed rather taken aback at the man’s tone and ire but said absolutely nothing because he was pleased the man agreed with him and was showing sense. Harry Potter was too young. He could not compete legally, and his guardian had very plainly said no way was it happening. So, while the theatrics were off-putting, he simply had no reason to disagree with the extremely angry man and he simply did not. Not to mention, Harry Potter’s Godfather was a Black, and a Black that had spent twelve years in Azkaban, and it was partially his fault. No, he would be keeping his mouth shut, thank you very much.

Professor McGonagall seemed pleased in a way a cat is pleased to watch events unfold. She watched her former student pace up and down the small room, putting himself between his son and Albus Dumbledore, and she was unbelievably pleased at the sight. Harry needed a real parent, and his Muggle relatives had been horrible. She was intensely relieved and heartened at the sight of the family Harry Potter had, now. An extremely angry Sirius Black pacing just so, that hinted he was part animal. Of course, Minerva knew he was. It did much to unnerve everyone on the other side of the room. Indeed, next to Mr. Harry Potter was one of her very own lion cubs, protecting her family quite fiercely. Although, she looked quite snake-like at present. Calm and languid, but quite poised to strike should danger arise. Very interesting, and Minerva found it did not bother her one bit. She could only protect Harry against Albus so much, but Sirius and Hermione didn’t have to toe the line with Albus, and especially not in this.

Alastor Moody -outwardly- had sat passively throughout the lad’s tirade, because Alastor Moody would see no reason to argue with perfectly sensible notions. Bartemius Crouch, Jr. however, could argue but so no reason to do so. No, he could get to the Potter brat some other way for his Lord if he needed to. No need to draw any further attention to himself, though he would rather enjoy bringing the chit of a girl down a peg or two. His plan might have worked had she not intervened, and so very publicly. Alastor Moody wouldn’t do anything in this situation, but Barty, well, he wanted to do a lot of things that would only blow his cover. He took a sip of his Polyjuice Potion from his flask and remained silent.

None of the other Champions had uttered a word. They might have, had Harry been trying to participate. Rather it seemed the boy was actually intelligent and wanted no part of the Tournament other than to watch. Though, Viktor Krum was staring at Hermione Ollivander as if she would be tasty and he would be very curious indeed to find out what her flavor was. Of course, this went unnoticed by largely everyone, save Sirius. He would have to find a time to warn Hermione about that.

Sirius was waiting for Albus to say something stupid. Something to try and change Harry’s mind. He should never have called Harry up to the front like that in the first place. He should have never read the name aloud. He should have disregarded it _knowing_ the boy was underage. Dumbledore always had to push it when it came to Harry, though. He had surprisingly been quiet while Sirius paced and yelled. Perhaps he was not completely senile yet, because Sirius could see him weighing his options. He was wondering what he could get away with. From the faces of those in the room, the answer was not much. Defeat, then.

“Minerva, please escort Mr. Potter to Madam Pomfrey. He seems better but it’s best to be safe,” Dumbledore said quietly.

Hermione did _not_ scoff. She did not roll her eyes. She did nothing disrespectful at all, aside from thinking that Albus Dumbledore was an old fool who was going to get a lot of people killed.

“Of course, Albus. Sirius, would you like to stay with Harry for the night? I’m sure something can be arranged.” Minerva offered mostly to take care of her cubs, but it was a bonus to further piss off Albus.

“Yes, I would like that. Thank you. Hermione, you’re coming with us,” Sirius said in a much calmer tone of voice. He scowled at Viktor Krum to let him know he had been seen. Sirius was perfectly aware of what Hermione was capable of, but it would still be good to make sure the boy knew would be watched.

“Absolutely, I wouldn’t dream of deserting my brother,” Hermione smiled at him. Sirius gathered Harry and got him to his feet. He did not immediately sway, which was a good sign and an improvement from earlier.

Minerva walked near Sirius to help catch Harry should they stumble, Hermione brought up the rear. Just before she exited the room, she turned and said, “I do apologize for my outburst and that of Mr. Black. We don’t have much family, but we do protect what we have. I wish you all the best of luck in the tournament. Oh, and doubly sorry to you Professor Moody. I suppose not everyone is used to seeing the physical signs of shock. We got used to it last year, unfortunately.” She gave them a polite smile and closed the door behind her. No one had missed the fact that she had not included the Headmaster in her apology.

Hermione quickened her steps to catch up to Harry and Sirius just as they were about to exit the hall. Professor McGonagall had already alerted Madam Pomfrey and was on her way to make sleeping arrangements for Sirius to be nearby. Honestly, she knew it was likely he would remain in the hospital wing with Harry, but it never hurt to be considerate of all possibilities.

Sirius looked askance at her when she evened up with them, Harry mostly walking on his own power now. “Thanks, Hermione. Harry and Minerva told me what you did. I really appreciate you, little witch. He was going to try to put Harry in the tournament anyway. I’m almost sure of it,” he growled the last.

Hermione indicated they shouldn’t talk about this in the open hall with a shake of her head. “Of course, I would do anything for Harry. He’s family.” She smiled up at them both, because Sirius was family, too.

Sirius chuckled, “You’re a good one. Also, a fair warning for you. That Bulgarian seeker? You caught his eye tonight.”

Hermione scoffed, “I am obviously far too busy to consider such things. This stupid tournament is already going to be a problem with my studies. Forget about boys.”

Harry let out a low laugh, but he sounded quite tired. Shock will do that to you. “Well, Hermione, at least no one will be staring at you at breakfast in the morning. Did you hear what they were saying about me, Mi? Apparently, I am the Boy-Who-Cheats now.”

“Don’t you dare Harry James Black Potter! Stop it, immediately! I will set every single person in this school straight if I must. I will make such a spectacle they will forget you exist,” she replied haughtily. “Honestly, not even Fred and George could figure out how to pass the barrier. They’re still in the hospital wing from their attempt, and you were with me in the tower most of the evening! Fucking ridiculous!” Hermione seethed.

Sirius gave a barking laugh at her language and ire. “Aye, you’ve got some of the Black blood in you.”

“And I’ve got the papers to prove my pedigree, unlike some,” she teased. Feeling better that she managed to get both Sirius and Harry to laugh, she parted ways with them and headed to the Tower. She needed to drop off her rescued bookbag and let everyone know Harry was alright, and that he _would not_ be competing in the bloody tournament. Then she still had to head to the Room of Requirement so she could speak with her friends. What a fucking night. The term was days old, and Hermione was already tired. And she really needed to stop herself from adopting Sirius’ syntax, her parents would not have approved.

  
  
  



	14. Secrets and Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chat in the Room of Requirement is more than Hermione bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm glad so many of you liked the previous chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it. :D This is another one full of...things. Enjoy! Leave me a kudo or a comment, I do so love those! ~VerdeVeritas

Hermione found the common room full of her housemates from all years. She wasn’t shocked to see it, but she would be lying if she said she weren’t annoyed. “More bloody rumors,” she thought to herself in a growl. Irritated did not begin to cover her mood. They should be studying because Rowena knew they all needed to study more. They should be sleeping. They should be doing any number of other things and leaving Harry Potter alone. They should be minding their own sodding business. Unfortunately, that was as likely as Hermione was likely to break her wand. Teenagers.

She knew she wouldn’t’ have to speak. Someone else would inevitably questions her about Harry if she only waited long enough, and then she could shame them all for believing so poorly of Harry. And she absolutely would be shaming them. They deserved it. Were their minds so small they couldn’t bother to think for themselves? On second thought, do not answer that. She already knew the answer.

Ignoring the questioning looks, Hermione huffed and made her way to her dorm. She really missed having her own living pace. Lavender and Parvati were not her friends, at all. If she could have roomed with Ginny and Luna, she would have been fine, but these two cows were neither conversationalists nor deep thinkers. They were the epitome of shallow and vain teenage girls. They thought about boys and clothes and other frivolous things. Hermione could never be friends with them, and she _might_ be just a bit jealous of their ability to be so unashamedly teenagers. Hermione had never really had that option.

Stowing her bookbag, Hermione grabbed a smaller satchel and put her charmed book into it. Once she picked it up, she could feel the slight heat, indicating she had a message.

_Draco to all – Still on for tonight?_

_Hermione to all – Yes, I’m on my way now._

She grabbed a few other items and left her dorm room, knowing her previous silence would nearly ensure one of them would question her about the incident in the Great Hall. She had not expected an outright onslaught of questions, though.

There were too many voices to understand anyone's question so Hermione waited patiently for them to take the hint and shut their gobs before making her statement. She felt like a Muggle at a press conference, and the thought made her laugh to herself. Of all the things she did not want to endure, it would be a press conference.

“Harry is fine, Sirius is with him. He did not enter his name into the Goblet of Fire. Please, do continue to talk badly about him and see what may transpire,” she paused, noting the sheepish look on some faces before continuing. “How dare you, any of you, think so poorly of your housemate? Your housemate, your friend, who was so terrified he went into _shock_!? You out to be ashamed of yourselves. Harry Potter would never cheat. Do you believe, I mean really think about it, he wants to do anything this year aside from going to class and play Quidditch? Heed my words, because I fi hear you malign his character further in my earshot, or I hear _of it_ , I will not hesitate to make up something nasty for you. And you all _know_ I can.” She narrowed her eyes at them all to be sure she’d sent the point home. She could see she had succeeded, mostly.

“Okay, you’re right, Hermione. Harry has had a hell of a few years. But what else were we supposed to think? And why were you spitting mad at Dumbledore?” asked someone she couldn’t see. She didn’t recognize the voice either, but she wasn’t concerned, overmuch.

“She was spitting mad because she’s been spending all of her free time with _snakes,_ and they are brainwashing her!” seethed Ronald.

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes, it was nigh impossible, but she managed. “Firstly, you’re supposed to think for yourselves instead of assuming the worst of someone. Anyone who knows Harry knows better than to think he would do something like this. This school has a _lot_ of new faces, and not all of them seem to be friendly. I would wager that they did this in an attempt to hurt him, get him hurt, cause a rift between him and his friends, or any other assortment of reasons. So, ponder that angle for a moment. My issues with Dumbledore are my own and I will not be discussing them, it doesn’t concern anyone in here. As for your comment, Ronald: I’ve already told you, they are friends. It is not your concern, regardless, as you’re certainly proving to be no friend of mine. Mind your own business! If you bothered to pay attention to _anything_ you were taught, you might understand the niceties of your very own culture. As you apparently cannot, please be so kind as to divert your attention to a witch who may be so insipid as to desire it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.”

She was met with silence, which pleased her just fine. She could see Ron in the crowd, and his face had turned a lovely shade of red. It was all just as well; she’d had beyond enough of his antics. A path was slowly made for Hermione to the portrait hole. Ginny stopped her to inquire about Harry’s whereabouts, and she was given instructions to seek out the hospital wing. Ginny also congratulated her, rather loudly, on the scathing comments directed at her wayward brother thus making her position known. He had deserved them. Neville sidled up next to Ginny and assured Hermione he would keep an eye on Harry, and that he would _try_ to keep Ron away from her. Hermione thanked him for being such a good friend, and then set forth toward the far end of the seventh-floor corridor.

She didn’t bother with the disillusionment charm until she was well on her way to her destination. She mostly didn’t want to be followed. She found an empty hidden alcove and make sure she hadn’t missed her shoes or something. She stood there for a few moments, listening for breathing and footsteps. Once she was sure she was alone, she cast a silencing charm on her shoes and continued.

Hermione pulled her journal out of her satchel while waiting on a staircase to switch, thankful for Muggle pens every single day, and wrote a missive to very specifically ensure to let her know when they were all gathered. It would make very little sense to conjure the door if they weren’t all there to gain entry. She had only told Draco about the Room of Requirement recently, but he’d had yet to use it and she was fairly sure Blaise hadn’t either.

When Hermione reached the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, she pulled her journal out again and waited. Once she’d gotten the affirmation everyone was there, she paced back and forth and concentrated on what she needed. After the third pass, an ornate door carved itself out of the castle wall. Hermione opened it and walked in, pleased when she felt the doorway cancel the disillusionment charm as she passed through. The Room of Requirement could do almost anything if you knew how to ask nicely. Theo brought up the rear, and Hermione closed the door behind him.

She turned and greeted them all with a smile. “Welcome to the Room of Requirement,” she said genially. She knew she could, at the very least, be herself here. Her strange new self, but herself, nonetheless. She had been here before with Theo, so they could study in peace without being seen. It may be Hermione’s second favorite place in the castle.

“Wow, so this is brilliant. I’m shocked there’s so much green,” Blaise commented.

“I figured it would be more comfortable. Besides, I like green,” Hermione shrugged.

When creating the space, she had asked for a combination of the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms. All the coloring was green and sliver, but the furniture was like the Gryffindor common room. Squat plush chairs situation around a fire with a large table in the center. There were other tables with some games on them, but Hermione would rather be near the fire. If they needed anything else, Hermione could always ask.

“I quite approve,” Theo said with a grin. He had seen this particular room, after all.

Draco sauntered over and picked a seat, making himself comfortable. “Alright, Hermione, you got us to play the cloak-and-dagger bit. What’s up?”

Well, that was brusque for a Slytherin. Doubly so, for Malfoy. Hermione grinned and him and took a seat as well. “I think my Gryffindor is rubbing off on you, Draco.”

Theo chuckled as he and Blaise came over to join them. “No, he’s always like that if he’s in a safe place with trusted people. The mask wears one down when you have to wear it all the time. Feel loved, Hermione.”

Blaise smiled, “Can confirm. Now, what he said.” Blaise jabbed a thumb in Draco’s direction, who rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk with your hands?”

“She’d have to have been around to teach me.”

“Touché.”

Hermione sighed and investigated the crackling fire. “Mainly, I just wanted to check on you. There’s been a lot going on this summer and I’ve made it a point to make sure the people who matter are okay. I guess the death of my parents just…triggered my mother hen? I wanted to make sure your parents hadn’t done something awful because you helped me.”

She knew Slytherins were not known for sharing emotions, but the room was o very quiet Hermione looked to see their faces. She was not at all prepared for the open expressions of gratitude and respect, not in the slightest.

Draco cleared his throat but kept her eye contact. “Thank you for caring about the risk we took. We, or at least I, was under some suspicion because I was supposed to have already been at home, but I’m fine. It was a scolding, but I’m familiar with those. It was worth it to make sure you were alright.”

Hermione smiled and nodded at him, pleased. She was glad he hadn’t been hurt. “And you two?”

Blaise shrugged, “Nona knew what I was doing, already. I’m fine.”

“Bless your Nona,” Hermione said seriously. Gabby was a wonderful witch and human. “Theo, any issues?”

Theo shifted uncomfortably in his chair and sighed. He did not want to answer, but he would. Hermione was his friend, and he didn’t’ have to hide anything here. “I took a bit of a beating, but it wasn’t about you. It was because I was being “disobedient” in my behavior to my father.” Theo looked her in the eyes, then. “I’m alright, though. Nothing new and I’m glad we got to you in time.”

“Yes, thank you again for that. How did you even know to look for me?” Hermione asked. This was the test. If they could trust her with this, she could trust them enough to bring them in on some things. She was going to need Draco for this to work.

“My father,” Draco started, “I heard him speaking to Mum. They were looking for you and Potter, specifically.” There, he had said it. He had all but confirmed his father was a Death Eater. That was what Hermione needed.

“Oh, I figured it was something like that,” Hermione shrugged. Draco stared at her hard but didn’t say anything else. “You all risked a lot coming after me, and I appreciate it. I appreciate it so much; I’ve got a rather serious question to ask.”

Hermione waited and watched as the three boys exchanged looks. She was going to wait for them to pursue her question. She wasn’t going to lay it out there unless they were ready to be asked, willing to be asked. Blaise was the one who prompted her, “Well ask it then. We do still have to sleep at some point.”

Hermione laughed lowly at that. “How would you like to help me bring down the Dark Lord and all of his followers? How would you like to help me undermined Dumbledore’s scheming, which will likely result in the deaths of hundreds?”

The room was silent for a few moments before Theo broke it. “Sign me up.” Blaise only smiled, which Hermione took to be an affirmation of his willingness.

Hermione studied Draco and waited for him to speak his piece. “What about my Mum? I’ll do this because honestly, I think my father is insane, callous, and cold and I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to follow in his footsteps. I don’t want to be a Death Eater. I will not have a choice if I don’t do something now, but I love my Mum. She’s not a Death Eater. She isn’t a part of this, and she can’t escape either.”

Hermione knew Narcissa Black Malfoy would be a concern for her son. “I’ve thought of that, actually. She factors into the plan, and I’ve got a way to remove her, if we should have the need to do so.”

“Then count me in, Hermione. I don’t want to be a fucking Death Eater,” Draco spat. “I may have been raised to dislike Muggle-borns, but I don’t think blood supremacy has much merit. In fact, I think a lot of things I shouldn’t. I won’t survive under the thumb of Voldemort. I might be a prat, but I don’t think I’m evil, and I really don’t want to be.”

“Definitely a prat,” snarked Blaise.

“Prat, git, not evil, though,” smiled Theo.

Hermione smiled and leaned over, touching the back of his hand to offer him comfort. “I don’t want you to be either. So, we need to learn Occlumency. Lots and lots of Occlumency. Do any of you know it enough to teach it? Suggestions?”

“My Godfather taught me Occlumency. He _might_ be convinced,” Draco said hesitantly.

Hermione made a moue of surprise before asking, “Who is your Godfather?”

Draco smirked before answering her. “Severus Snape.” He smiled then, a devious grin, but a genuine one. Hermione hadn’t known he had a smile like that in him and found it rather becoming. She thought he should do that more often. No, wait. No, she didn’t. She did not think that. Moving right along.

“Well, I believe that would accomplish a few of my goals, but I am sure he would be loath to get involved,” commented Hermione.

“Godfather is loath to do many things….but if it’s necessary? Perhaps you could impart to him your plan? He’s an accomplished Occlumens and the plan couldn’t be torn from his mind,” Draco suggested.

Hermione had only told them she had an idea of how to turn the tide of the war – which everyone above the age of thirteen seemed to think was on its way – should it happen. She couldn’t exactly spill all the details given a good part of her plan hinged on family secrets and not fit to be shared. She could tell him the gist of it, though. It was fairly simple, aside from the fact she would need access to Death Eater’s wands. That was likely to be more difficult than forcing adults to recognize Albus Dumbledore was a wizard with many faults. They all worshipped him, though Hermione strongly suspected that was not the case of her Potions Professor. She bit her bottom lip as she thought through all possibilities and probable reactions. She was as always, grateful when people understood she was thinking and not ignoring them.

“I think that might have merit, though I’m unsure of how to get him to listen to me before casting me from his presence for my ‘presumptive intrusion,’” hedged Hermione.

“Take Draco with you,” offered Theo. Draco and Hermione both looked at him oddly.

Theo sighed before extrapolating. “Have Draco go with you into the dungeons during Snape’s office hours. Go in disillusioned, if you must, but I think he would be too curious to turn you away if you showed up together. Then you can tell him and ask him for help. Draco is a natural Occlumens and he’s been learning from Snape for years. Surely he could keep the secret safe.”

Blaise pondered for a moment before supporting the idea. “That should ensure he hears you out. With Draco there he won’t just dismiss you.:

Hermione looked at Draco. It had to be his choice. It was his Godfather, his relationship with him on the line. She was willing to try, If he was. When she said as much Draco smirked.

“Ever the Gryffindor. Fine, he has hours tomorrow after dinner. I’ll risk it. I know he’s a sarcastic arse but he’s a good wizard, much as he tries to hide it. Mum has always told me to go to him if I need help. He’s never turned me away even if he was a git about it the entire time,” Draco replied. “He’s the same in his capacity of Head of House. He helps his students to the best of his capability, even if he finds it tiresome and uncomfortable.”

“You know, that’s not really a shock to me. Everyone talks shite about him, but never a Slytherin,” Hermione mused. She shrugged, “Works for me. I can always obliviate him if I have to.”

Draco, Theo, and Blaise were staring at her with a mixture of astonishment, disbelief, and possibly mild approval. She eventually took pity on them after a few moments and grinned to imply she was joking. Though, Hermione admitted to herself she may do just that if Snape declared he would tell Dumbledore. She found that particular outcome unlikely but preferred to be prepared for all eventualities. Severus Snape was not a known variable, so she would need to prepare to act in a way she normally would not.

The three boys eventually had a chuckle at her antics and Hermione let it go. The path she had decided to forge would likely be full of unpleasant consequences and deeds. It was all she could do to refrain from creating a pro and cons list right there.

“Is there anything else you can tell us without putting this plan at risk?” Blaise asked. He reminded Hermione of a cat in some ways.

She scrunched her nose as she thought about it. Was there anything she could say that wouldn’t jeopardize her ideas? She shook her head. “Not on that front, no…but how would you like to help me remake Hogwarts into more than house prejudice? I’ve grown quite tired of it.” She grinned conspiratorially. They could help with this too, after all. In a way they already were.

“That would depend on what your plans are,” hedged Draco. Ever the snake, unwilling to commit without details.

“Oh, nothing too crazy. I do know you lot still have to deal with certain expectations.”

Theo scoffed, “Yes, well, not adhering to those specifications could be quite harmful, Hermione.”

Hermione frowned at him. “Give me some credit, Nott. Are you forgetting who covered your arses with the Ministry?”

“Of course not. It’s just that one misstep could end up getting one seriously hurt,” Blaise remarked gravely. It was uncharacteristic and off-putting, and Hermione did not like that at all.

“Please. I may be a Gryffindor, but I think like a Ravenclaw and I plot like a snake. None of what I plan to do can be overt, especially not at the beginning.” Hermione sniffed; her derision clear.

Draco actually laughed at her antics, causing Hermione to whip her head at him in surprise. “Why don’t you tell us what you want to do, and we’ll see what we can do to help? That is, if we can do anything. Dumbledore holds his house prejudice near and dear to his heart. Trust me, us snakes hate it.”

That, Hermione, could easily believe. “Well, that’s fair. In a way, you’re already helping me to start it. Pansy, too, though she wasn’t aware of that when she ran her mouth in class. The rumors were not an accident, I want her talking to anyone who will listen. It’s the same reason I threatened Patil, partly. I’m trying to prove a point.”

“And what point might that be, oh lioness?” queried Theo.

“That anyone, literally anyone, can fit into the Magical world if they are taught properly. I’ve learned most of this from my house-elf, Dotty, in a few months. I’m not perfect and I’ve still got a lot to learn…but I can manage in society. If Muggle-Born students actually attended a class to learn about Wizarding culture and how to comport themselves, do you honestly believe they would be so very hated? They are just as ignorant as I was, and it is not their fault. Add to that the fact they are just missing the simplest and most basic knowledge about magic? Of course, there is a societal divide! But it need not be like this. I feel like it can be fixed. I don’t doubt some believe all the blood supremacy rhetoric, but I also believe a lot of the issue is the societal and cultural differences between the two. I want to fix it. I want to stop the infighting,” Hermione ranted. She hadn’t realized she had stood up at some point and began pacing in front of the fire. Three sets of eyes watched her go back and forth with curiosity and interest. “Social faux pas can make or break a witch or wizard, but a Muggle-born wouldn’t even be aware they had done it, much less how to remedy the wrong. It’s not right, and I’m quite perturbed by the whole thing. And another fucking thing. _All_ Muggle-Born students and their families should be afforded protection! Decent wards, for Morgana’s sake! It would take only minutes! Minutes! I am honestly beside myself with better fucking ideas than _obliviation_. How about semi-magical communities, instead? Families with a child who has magic or even for squibs? It can’t be that had to modify a Muggle repelling charm to tie in family members of a magical child, and they would have so much more support that way! It’s just preposterous how they think they have “managed” the Muggle population and they’re actually alienating a large portion of the magical one! So bloody idiotic it almost makes Ronald look intelligent sometimes!”

Suddenly, Hermione seemed to realize she had been wearing a line into the floor like a caged animal. She huffed in frustration, her heart rate still elevated but her impassioned speech and lecturing. She fell back into her empty chair and covered her face with her hands, feeling sheepish. She’d meant every word though; she wasn’t about to take it back.

“Are you sure you’re not a Hufflepuff?” asked Blaise.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh with everyone else. The tension in the room dropped a bit with their amusement at her expense. Hermione had been holding that in for a while, it seemed.

“My apologies,” she said with a rueful smile, “it really fucking bothers me.”

“Not even I can argue your points, Hermione. You make good ones. Hell, you’re probably correct. I guess I just fail to see how we can help you,” Draco said, but gently. That was new, and not something she was used to.

“Don’t you get it? You already _are_ helping me. Speaking with me in public, escorting me to dinner…You’re helping to show a Muggle-Born can be accepted into polite society with the correct education, next to the same people who have been born into it.”

It was Theo who said, “But you are not, in fact, a Muggle-Born.”

Hermione chuckled at his statement. As if she could forget. “I was raised as one, Theo. My blood, my magic, notwithstanding, I was raised as a Muggle child in Muggle-town, Britain, surrounded by Muggles. People are not going to forget that, and I’m going to capitalize on it. Like I said, I learned how to fit in within a few months with extra tutelage. Do you not believe everyone capable of learning to this degree? Yes, I’m technically a Pureblood by adoption, a Half-blood by birth, so you are free to associate with me now. You, three Princes of Slytherin, have been seen chatting and walking with me. Think about it for a moment. How likely do you find it that I threatened Patil to solidify my point, rather than solely out of annoyance? She maligned my family name, and I’m honor-bound to defend it from slander. This is the type of stuff I’m talking about, guys. Patil doesn’t even understand why she was in the wrong.”

The room was silent for a few minutes. She’d talked a lot, so she let them ponder. She let them mull her words in silence, like they had done for her. Eventually, Draco shifted in his chair with a thoughtful expression. “It makes sense, from a publicity standpoint. Popular opinion isn’t always the total truth of a matter and can be manipulated if one has the patience and know-how. You could shift the way people think, their beliefs on magical blood, slowly, and it’s best to start here in Hogwarts. It is a controlled enough environment, and once students graduate and leave you’ve still left behind the younger students. To turn the tide so slowly that Dumbledore’s beliefs and practices are outdated and no longer suitable for children to be subjected to them? To control the perspective, that it isn’t about blood at all but instead decorum and understanding of our most sacred and upheld values? It’s brilliant, devious, and absolutely attainable if you know how to do it.”

Hermione gave him a genuine smile. He understood then. He could see what she was trying to do. After Theo and Blaise had spent a few moments think about Draco’s words, she could see their eyes widen as well. She could watch the puzzle pieces fall into place for them and Blaise grinned, while Theo just chuckled lowly in appreciation. It was devious, but it wasn’t wrong, and it wasn’t dark. It was just using his own PR against him, and Hermione wasn’t averse to witnessing Dumbledore eat crow. Not in the slightest.

“Not a Hufflepuff,” Hermione remarked good-naturedly. Of course, she had nothing against Hufflepuff, they were sweet, genuine, and loyal. It brought more laughter into the room, which had been her aim. It had also been followed by three resolute affirmations that she was absolutely not a Hufflepuff, which of course Hermione had already known.

“Too devious,” Blaise said.

“Too smart,” Theo followed him.

“Too sneaky,” Draco complimented.

Hermione could only agree with them, so she gave a mock curtsy at their acceptance of the praise; because coming from them, it was praise. She was determined to free this school of Dumbledore, rid the world of Voldemort, and facilitate better understanding between those born into the magical world, and those blessed enough to join it anew. Peace. All she wanted was peace. No more wars over ignorant concepts of blood purity. It was just a fluid; everyone’s was the same. They needed it to live. It did not constitute rightness, wrongness, or the ability to belong. What made them special was their magic, and that was the fucking point.

“Well, we _are_ friends now, so I think we can help you. IT shouldn’t be too difficult, but we’ll have to start small. Infinitesimal, really. We need to solidify you as well-mannered and knowing our ways, first. That is not to say you already aren’t, but we need to get more snakes on board. Your display in Potions should help with that, though you’re going to need to get Greengrass. She’s the gatekeeper for female society in our year,” Theo mused aloud.

“Daphne is a delight compared to most,” smiled Hermione. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation, and they were pondering her ideas. She knew they were intelligent. Draco and Theo were always nipping at her heels in the class rankings. A year ago, Hermione would have told anyone who said she would become a Pureblood Princess and friends with a bunch of Slytherins to check into the St. Mungo’s, but here she was.

“Daphne _is_ a delight, sweet girl,” added Blaise. Something in his tone of voice told Hermione he was not just complimenting her, but she was going to choose to ignore that, for now.

After Draco had sent his apology letter to Hermione at the end of the year, he had started to think for himself a lot more, and he was glad of it. It took Hermione Granger breaking his nose for him to snap out of the rhetoric he had been conditioned to believe his entire life. The fact that he had his nose broken didn’t bother him overmuch, it had only served to make him more handsome physically and mentally. He had decided to stop antagonizing Muggle-Born students because honestly, he did not need to do so. They didn’t understand a lot of things about how he was raised, but they weren’t to blame for their ignorance. They weren’t lesser at magic either, and he had seen that in Hermione. It didn’t really matter to him she was actually a Half-Blood the whole time because he had perceived her to be a Muggle-Born and he had already learned the lesson. The blood didn’t matter, the magic was what mattered. The education of the Wizarding world and customs was what mattered. In their correspondence, Hermione had educated Draco about genetics, or at least the basics of how genetics worked. He’d conclude rather quickly he would rather marry for love and magic than to keep his “pure” blood pedigree.

“Give it a few days to let the rumor mill catch up. Between class and what happened at dinner, it’s going to be a lively week,” Draco replied. “Actually, what _did_ happen at dinner?”

To the surprise of everyone in the room, Hermione growled. A low, deep-throated sound of immense frustration and malevolence that it had to be involuntary. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” they chorused. Sighing, Hermione launched into an explanation.

“I’m not sure if you guys could see Harry’s face when Dumbledore called him up, but he was surprised. He didn’t put his name in the bloody goblet. I know wizarding law fairly well; I had a lot of studying to do to make sure Sirius was cleared by the Wizengamot -you’re welcome Draco.” Draco snorted at the comment but didn’t interrupt. Sirius was technically family, a very distant cousin.

“Anyway, I knew Harry couldn’t compete because he couldn’t sign the contract. He’s only fourteen! Dumbledore was going to try and force it. I could tell he didn’t like me interfering – he’s cross with me, what else is new? – but Professor McGonagall came in to provide me some backup.” Draco had always liked McGonagall. She was the fairest of all the Professors.

“I had to call my elf to get chocolate for Harry, who is still in the hospital wing being treated for shock, by the way, because Dumbledore refused to drop it. His name never even should have been called! Fucking meddling oaf! So, I had Dotty go and get Sirius, who had been _barred_ from entering the grounds. He was obviously not pleased and gave Dumbledore a great big heap of the Black temper.” Of course, Sirius had not been pleased. He was the guardian of Harry Potter, and Hogwarts wasn’t supposed to deny parents or guardians access specifically for this kind of reason. Draco found that interesting, but still did not interrupt the pacing and furious witch.

“I could tell McGonagall wanted to do more, but she’s taken oaths to the school, to Dumbledore, so she was limited in what actions she could take. I fucking lost my temper. Also, do not trust the new Defense Professor. There is something off there, though I’ve not quite place it yet. And if I had fewer witnesses, I would have hexed the bollocks off the Headmaster. Honestly! Fucking insane, really. Sirius got him to back off, so Harry will NOT be competing because he absolutely cannot and should not.” Damn straight, Draco thought. He could see Blaise and Theo were looking at her thoughtfully. He wondered if they were wondering the same thing as him. Was this what it was like to have someone in your corner no matter what? Was this what true loyalty felt like? Of course, Theo and Blaise were his best friends, but they could only do so much to help him sometimes. This witch though, this witch would go to bat no holds barred for anyone she cared for, and it showed. Draco thought he could use a friend such as that.

“I was in such a tiff when I got here because I had just gone off on the entirety of Gryffindor tower. How dare they call Harry a cheat? All he wants is to be normal for Merlin’s sake! They were being absolutely cruel, but I’m sure I’ve done enough to redirect their ire and gossip back to me, now.” Draco rolled his eyes at the reaction of Potter’s housemates. For all the talk that was spouted about Gryffindor's house, he had witnessed the ostracization of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger himself. They were cruel, and they didn’t give a shite if you were in their house; if you had been perceived to do wrong then you were on the outside. At least Slytherin house was kind enough to put up a front, regardless of internal disagreements. Last year he distinctly remembered Hermione being ousted for something or other by Harry Potter and all his merry band of idiots. She had seemed miserable. Draco didn’t pester her those weeks.

Draco thought while Hermione talked. Circe, she could talk when she wanted to! And she was so passionate, it was beautiful to see, really. Hermione’s face was flush as she went on about the stupidity of her housemates, and Draco didn’t see fit to interrupt her. When she told them, what Ron had said to her he could feel Blaise and Theo still as well as himself. When she told them how she had responded, however, they could relax again. He was almost sure she had not noticed it, but if she had she didn’t comment. “Weasel is going to be a problem,” Draco said slowly. He didn’t wish to redirect her frustration at him, but he needed to make sure she knew. She probably did, she was not a stupid witch.

Hermione scoffed. “When isn’t he a problem? He will do something stupid, always does. I’ve got to pen a letter to his parents actually. They need to know what he’s been up to. Perhaps I’ll have Ginny do it, instead. That is not the way they raised him. At least, Arthur wouldn’t condone it.”

“See what you can do on the parent front, but don’t hold out hope for much. He will do something stupid because he is jealous of the attention you’re getting,” Blaise commented.

“Okay, honestly while that’s very juvenile it’s also probably true. It isn’t like I asked for this nonsense to happen! It just did and you have two choices; control the storm or get swept up in it. I’d defend anyone else I cared for in equal and vehement measures,” Hermione huffed.

“You didn’t just defend Potter though. You stood up and defied Albus bloody Dumbledore in front of the school. You should be very wary of him,” remarked Theo gravely.

Hermione let out a hollow, humorless laugh at that. “Oh, I’ve done more than stand up to him; I have well and truly pissed him off. Feels good, honestly. Setting me and my mates up against a bloody Cerberus in my first year ought to account for something, I think.”

“You did this on purpose?” queried Blaise quietly. He had known about the three-headed dog. It had gotten through school by the end of the first year, but still. Why would she knowingly draw negative attention from their Headmaster?

Hermione bit her bottom lip before answering, “Erm…well it didn’t start that way? It’s sort of a long story.” She started chewing and worrying at her bottom lip. She wasn’t sure how much she should say, but the fact they were still here meant they had agreed to help, didn’t it? It would be wrong not to tell them everything about this part, right?

“We won’t force you to tell us, Hermione. You don’t have to share anything you’re not comfortable with sharing.” Hermione looked up to see Draco’s eyes were as gentle as his tone of voice. Merlin, she was not used to that, but she could grow to like it for sure. _No, stop it, Hermione! Stay on topic._ She searched out the eyes of Theo and Blaise, too. She saw acceptance, worry, curiosity, kindness…that’s what she needed to see. She decided to tell them more. She didn’t think she’d spoken this much in months, possibly years. At least, not when people were _actually_ listening to what she had to say.

“You all know my parents died. Everyone does, it’s common knowledge. I’m sure you don’t know exactly how they died, or the events that followed their deaths,” Hermione took a fortifying breath before she continued. The death of her parents was still raw, though she didn’t cry every morning, now. It still hurt, it would probably never stop hurting. At least, that’s how it felt to Hermione.

“On top of everything else I have disagreed with Dumbledore over, this just..broke the camel’s back. My parents didn’t just die a normal Muggle death. They were targeted and murdered. Dumbledore lie to me and told me it was a house fire, but Sirius…he couldn’t lie to me like that. I was their intended target, the main reason they were there. They ransacked my room looking for something, I don’t know what it was. Dumbledore sat me down at the Weasley’s dinner table and lied to my face, as if I hadn’t known they were in danger. As if I hadn’t asked for them to be protected at all, which I had, several times. I was so furious I had been lied to. At the time I didn’t know everything, but I got the memory from Sirius before I came back to school.”

Hermione paused to catch her breath, to steel herself against what she was undoubtedly mentally reliving, the pain she was feeling. She felt a hand on her tightly coiled fist, which was shaking slightly, and looked up to see Draco offering her comfort with that simple touch. She took it and laced her fingers with his while she lost herself in the memory. She didn’t want to remember.

_Sirius and Hermione were alone in the library at her new ancestral home. She had been reading at length about charms and enchantments for hours before he finally broke the silence._

_“Hermione, love?”_

_Hermione bookmarked her page and looked up at him. She could tell something had been bothering him all evening, and she’d just waited for him to speak. “Yes, Uncle Sirius?”_

_“I need you to know something, and it’s going to hurt you, and I’m sorrier than I can say for it. You’ve been through so much, but is’ the only way I can protect you.,” Sirius’ normally jovial demeanor was gone, and in its place was a somber and nervous man._

_“Is this about my parents?” She asked it baldly to hopefully assuage him of some of the torment he was obviously feeling. This wasn’t his fault; it was her fault. It was her fault for befriending Harry Potter and loving him like family. She had made them a target. He hadn’t._

_“Yes. Dumbledore lied. He lied about the way they died, Hermione. I could tell from the way you acted after you had been told that you didn’t believe his story, and you were right not to,” Sirius sighed and decided to just say it. “They were murdered, love. They had been looking for you. I know that stench, and it smelled like Death Eaters to me.”_

_“I had assumed as much,” Hermione said the words calmly, evenly, but she was crying._

_“I don’t know what they want with you but you need to be ever so careful, Hermione, please. Harry can’t lose you, and neither can Remus or I,” Sirius’ mask was threatening to break with the weight of the emotion he was holding back. Hermione could see it cracking._

_“Don’t worry Sirius, I already know…and I’ve been planning. I don’t know where to begin with them. I don’t trust Dumbledore, and I’ll make sure to distance Harry from him as much as possible.”_

She snapped back to reality and shook her head as if it would clear her memories from her mind. “Sorry. Got lost for a second. Anyway, Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley thought it would be best for me to stay at the Burrow. I didn’t really argue at the time but I was miserable. I was so miserable Harry spent most of his time there with me, and I escaped to Sirius’ house as often as possible. As fate would have it, a project I had been working on led me to speak with Mr. Ollivander. It was found he needed an heir and I needed a safe place far from the Burrow and Dumbledore. When Molly and Dumbeldore found out my adoption had already been finalized, they lost the plot. Mrs. Weasley kept telling me I was ungrateful, that I should grieve for my parents properly instead of hiding out at Sirius and Remus’, she told me it was all improper. Ronald kept pestering me to date him or play Quidditch, and Albus Dumbledore wanted me under his thumb. It was too late, and it had already been done. He had tried to fight me on clearing Sirius’ name too, but he could not stop me. There was too much evidence. I’d just had enough. Sirius told Harry that Dumbledore had been planning to have the Weasley’s adopt me, and I am so thankful I avoided that mess… So, basically Dumbledore is my second least favorite person. I blame him, at least partially, for the death of my parents, and his continuous meddling broke something in the bond I had with the Weasley’s before all this. I was adopted, found my Grandfather, and you know the rest. I have Harry, Sirius, Remus, Ginny, Luna, my Grandfather, and now you three. My standoff with Dumbledore was mostly to protect Harry, but I can admit it felt good to cause him grief. And I think he is hiding more from me. He’s hiding a lot more than I know, yet…and now I know the Death Eaters were looking for me at my home, as well as the World Cup. What life is this?”

When she finished, she felt as if she had been talking for hours. She very well may have been. She was suddenly so very tired. She was thankful they hadn’t interrupted her though. They let her talk, and they’d let her think and she was grateful.

Theo came up beside her and produced a kerchief which she used to dry her eyes with a quiet thank you. “He’s a bastard,” he commented.

Blaise only agreed with the sentiment, and Draco remained quietly holding her hand, moving his thumb in slow smooth circles while she calmed herself. Hermione had never thought she would find herself here, being comforted by three Slytherins she had just met a bit over a month ago. She was grateful for them, too.

“I’ll see what I can glean about them targeting you, but it’s probably because you’re Potter’s friend. They don’t let much slip if they know I’m around, though,” Theo offered.

“I appreciate that, Theo. Thank you.”

The memory of Molly Weasley making disparaging remarks about her chosen Uncles popped into her head again, and it managed to rend another low growl out of Hermione’s throat before she could stop it. Draco, Theo, and Blaise all visibly startled.

“You’re not planning on feeding us to the lioness, are you?” Blaise asked with a bit of a smile.

His comment forced a startled laugh out of Hermione, which was surely his intention. “No, not at all. I just remembered something Mrs. Weasley insinuated about Remus and Sirius and it made me angry all over again.”

“Circe, the woman apparently has no survival instincts to speak of. What did she do that time?” asked Draco, as he resumed smoothing circles over the back of her hand.

Hermione looked at him, face flushed and tearstained. “She said I shouldn’t be allowed to spend any amount of time alone with men of their age, and specifically, of Sirius’ reputation.” Her voice sounded hard, brittle, sad, and Draco hated it.

Draco stiffened his posture. “What a stupid bint. I’ve half a mind to challenge her to a duel for that,” his voice was as cold as Hermione’s had been harsh.

“I get she was implying something sexual, but honestly, I think this is one of those nuanced things that I don’t understand yet,” Hermione trailed off. She understood she had been insulted, but this insult was in a language that was new to her.

It was Draco’s turn to shake his head to clear his thoughts. “It’s several insults all rolled into a few sentences. She accused you of either willingly or unwillingly having sex with one or both. She insulted Potter’s guardian and family. She impugned your virginal status, which among society, is an offense that can get you called out for a duel. She could be called out to duel for such grievances against the House of Black due to personal and impersonal slights against his house and honor. You could call her out because she slandered your name and status just as much as Patil did. Potter, well Potter thinks of you as his sister, so he could call he rout on the hose grounds as well as the fact she maligned his house. Stupid of her really. I can’t see magical bonds, but I wouldn’t doubt that you have a familial bond with Potter, Black, and Lupin, just as much as you do with your Grandfather. If the bond exists, they can act as your family.”

“That is, really good to know. Thank you for clarifying that. For the record, Molly Weasley is bent,” Hermione grimaced. She filed this information away for later so she could ask Dotty about the bonds, and all the virginal status stuff. She hadn’t had sex yet, Merlin she didn’t have time for boys, but it was probably something she needed to know sooner rather than later.

“She really is. I’ve a guess as to what her, and maybe Dumbledore’s, intentions might have been. Honestly, it’s rather revolting,” Theo said nervously.

“Do I want to know?” asked Hermione with an ample amount of trepidation. Draco’s hand was warm. The movement of his thumb on her hand was rhythmic and soothing. He smelled like cedar, ***CURVE**, and it was soothing.

“Probably not,” Blaise said seriously.

“Should I know anyway?”

“Quite likely.”

“Tell me then,” Hermione huffed. Draco squeezed her hand gently. Hermione let it anchor her.

“In the old days if you took in someone and house them as a ward, it could be demanded of the ward to marry a family member of the house as payment,’ Theo explained calmly, clinically, antiseptic-like.

The blood drained from Hermione’s face and her lip curled up in disgust. She thought she might vomit. No, really, she might vomit. Blaise watched her face as she came to the same realization that he and Theo had. “Yeah, that’s how I thought you would feel about it.”

Draco tightened his hold on Hermione’s hand momentarily before releasing it again. Comfort. Anchor. Warm. Okay, that wasn’t going to happen. She had escaped…and then Ginny’s earlier words came back to her like a bludger. “She meant to trap me for Ron,” she almost whispered it. She couldn’t say it any louder, or she would undoubtedly vomit everywhere. That was something Hermione simply refused to do.

“That would be my evaluation, yes,” Draco drawled.

“Ugh – What? No. Ew. I can’t. This life is nonsense! Just…thank you for telling me but now I need a shower. I need a very long very hot shower. I never even thought about something like that. This is disgusting,” Hermione hadn’t actually let go of Draco’s hand, but she was trying to pace while holding it. Draco was quickly learning that she paced when she was agitated, or upset, or thinking…hell the witch just paced. Instead of letting go of her hand, Draco tugged her arm until she focused on him.

“Hermione, they can’t. You’re safe from that now. Just…do not accept any jewelry, food, or drink from any of them. Ever,” Blaise reasoned. He had seen his fair share of distraught witches, well witch, his mother, but he knew what she needed to hear. Hermione Ollivander was practical and liked to have a plan, so he gave her one. Giving her something else to focus on was the best course of action.

“Don’t worry, not going to happen. Thank you, all, for listening and letting me rant. I don’t get much of a chance to talk anymore. I’m too busy minding my manners and keeping Harry alive.”

“Well, you’re stuck with us now, Hermione. We have a world to conquer. We have plans to enact. We have a school to fix, too,” Theo trailed off with a smile.

“That we do,” she smiled back. She squeezed Draco’s hand lightly, as a thank you, before gently letting go. “It’s getting late. Let’s all go and get some rest. I still have to meet with Dotty before I can sleep. I promised her,” Hermione said. “She said something about a lesson, but I know we didn’t have one tonight. I’m assuming whatever it happens to be is important.”

“Enough said. Great plotting everyone. Let’s go and get some sleep,” Blaise winked when he said “sleep.” Hermione ignored him. Lech, but he made her smile despite the memories.

She bid them all a goodnight and made her way back to Gryffindor tower. She had learned a lot this evening she never wanted to know. She had spoken of far more than she intended to…but she didn’t regret it. She felt lighter after spending time with them. She felt safe with them. She didn’t feel as suspicious or on edge as she thought she should or would have. She was glad of it because Hermione needed friends, allies, people she could trust above all others. Regardless of the strange twist of fate that had brought her down this path, Hermione was glad she had them. She very specifically chose not to analyze why Draco Malfoy had held her hand. 


	15. The Plot Thickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **We meet Moody and see the Unforgivables here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. Hello lovelies! Sorry for the late-ish update, but I wasn't happy with this chapter. The pacing seems off, I can't really put my finger on what it is that's annoying me. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the story progression! I have another one that I need to tweak, but I'll get it up for you all soon!  
> A part of this chapter is italicized because it's mostly from the books/movies and I don't want to get smacked for plagiarism. This is JK's world, I am simply playing in the sandbox  
> <3 VerdeVeritas

Hermione was exhausted. Wrung out from all she had learned, all she had divulged, and the drama. Merlin, this whole day was exhausting. She would like nothing more than to fade into a sleepy oblivion, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Draco’s hand offering her comfort. Not to mention she had a meeting with Dotty she had promised to keep. Sighing heavily, Hermione hauled herself through the portrait hole after uttering the password.

The common room was mostly, blissfully, empty. Sirius and Harry sat chatting around the fire, and it eased some of the anxiety which had been eating away at her stomach since earlier in the evening. They looked up at Hermione when she had entered but didn’t say anything. Hermione wondered why they hadn’t said hello when she muttered to herself and canceled the charm she had forgotten was on her person. She gave them a tired smile.

“You’re looking better, Harry.”

“Clean bill of health from Madam Pomfrey. Her chocolate was lackluster though,” Harry replied with a pout. She tutted and shook her head at him, as she fell into the seat next to him with a huff. Harry pulled her into his side, “Thank you, Mi. You saved me, _again._ ”

Hermione bumped his shoulder with her head, “Thank Sirius. I just got him here.”

Sirius laughed at her, “No, little witch. You’re the reason I got here at all, and therefore are the perfect person to thank. I might have had the final say because I’m his guardian, but I know you would have stood in their way until I arrived. Dumbledore was wary of you, and your very pointed irritability. You think quick on your feet.”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m just thankful I stalled long enough, and that I didn’t completely lose my temper.”

“And what’s this I hear about you going off on the whole tower?” Sirius raised an eyebrow at her.

Hermione bristled, eyes alight with anger. “Dotty!” She called her elf. She knew Harry and Sirius were trustworthy, and she really wanted some tea. Sirius’ eyebrow rose further, but he didn’t comment.

“Miss Hermione! It took you long enough. Where have you been?” Dotty asked with an annoyed and somewhat chiding tone. “Hello, Mister Black Potter, Mister Black.”

Hermione smiled at her friend. “Making allies, Dotty, and chastising idiots, of course. May I please beg a pot of tea from you while we chat? I’m parched.”

Dotty rolled her eyes at her lady’s antics and snapped her fingers. A tea service appeared with four teacups and snacks. “As if I didn’t already know, Miss Hermione. They are to be included?”

Hermione simply nodded as she prepared everyone’s tea, inhaling the soothing scent. Once they were all settled, Dotty got straight to business. “Hermione, that man is a bad wizard.” Her face was lined with worry and discontentment. She was not a happy elf, and Hermione could certainly relate.

“I’m afraid I need you to be a bit more specific, my dear friend. There were a lot of wizards in that room,” Hermione replied. Not to be flippant, but she didn’t consider any of the men who Dotty might be referring to as necessarily “good.”

Dotty huffed and sat down in the chair beside Sirius, opposite of the couch Hermione and Harry were occupying. “The one with the magical eye and fake leg. There’s something wrong with that wizard. His magic is dark, hungry, and vicious. It is not steady, it is stunted and unhappy magic, twisted and vile. I’ve met more than my fair share of Auror’s over the years and though they may have been tinged with the Dark, they were never suffused with it. That is a bad wizard.”

Hermione made Dotty a cup of her own tea and handed it over to her friend. If Sirius or Harry thought it odd that Hermione was so comfortable with the elf, they didn’t let it show. Instead, Harry looked suspicious while Sirius looked pensive. If anyone here had hope of confirming Dotty’s suspicions, it would be Sirius. He and Mood fought together in the first war.

“Moody has always been a cantankerous bastard, so that isn’t new. I can’t say I’ve known the old man to drink so much though or be so quiet when faced with a puzzle such as that. He would usually be the first to demand an investigation. He doesn’t believe in coincidence, everything is a plot,” Sirius mused.

“Well, he certainly was not demanding an investigation, though he did defend Harry,” Hermione commented, thinking back to their earlier altercation.

“That doesn’t really make sense, so I’d say listen to Dotty. If something is off, it’s off. She can see things we cannot. Her magic is different than ours,” Sirius supplied.

Dotty nodded at him and sipped her tea. “It’s a good thing you’ve been making allies, Hermione. I fear you may need them sooner rather than later.”

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right about that. I’ll see what I can do about him from behind the scenes, but I’m not going to make myself into a larger target,” Hermione sipped and got lost in thought. She was already forming a plan, provided her current ones came to fruition.

“Yeah, please don’t, little witch. If he is as Dark as Dotty here fears, then he could do any number of things if you make yourself a problem. I’ve seen Moody duel, and you couldn’t take him,” Sirius remarked plainly.

Hermione scoffed at that remark but took it to heart regardless. Cautious was precisely what she needed to be right now. If she played her cards right, perhaps she could get the smear campaign against Harry dropped. Rita Skeeter was a vile woman, honestly, and she had done nothing but slander Hermione and Harry nearly since school had begun when they were eleven. Hermione, of course, took great offense to the sordid works of fiction the “journalist’ wrote. Skeeter was also on her to do list, as well as the Daily Prophet. Hell, most of the Wizarding world was on Hermione’s list in one way or another.

“I’ll behave. I don’t’ want to get killed, you know. All of my auspicious brushes with death have been to save this one, here. I keep Harry safe. So, Harry will stay away from him,” Hermione said firmly, making eye contact with her best friend.

Harry nodded to show he was going to take her seriously. “Done. I’ll steer clear of him, Mi. I don’t want any brushes with death this year, either.” Then Harry grinned and she just knew she wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say next, “So, who are these “allies,” sister mine?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, Harry knew who they were. He had the map. “You mean you and dear Uncle Sirius _didn’t_ spy on me? Now, why don’t I believe that?”

“We weren’t spying,” Sirius shifted in his chair when Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, and Dotty smirked. Dotty knew that look. “We weren’t! We just wondered where you were, is all. It was getting late and you hadn’t been seen since leaving the common room after dinner.”

Hermione's eyes softened, then. They had just been worried about her. Given her proclivity to be hexed with ultra-large teeth and petrified by basilisks, she could perhaps understand that worry. Hermione went to sip her tea, finding the cup empty. She frowned at it and made herself some more while she answered him.

“I told you, I don’t trust Dumbledore. There’s too much he doesn’t say and his actions are contradictory. I made some alliances with snake people. Three of them who were more than willing to agree to my terms in the return for my good word should something…unfortunate occur,” Hermione said carefully.

“You know how I feel about Slytherin’s, Hermione. You’re playing a dangerous game,” said Sirius tersely.

“I’m not playing a game, _Sirius._ I’ve already been made a pawn, and only seek to survive being placed on the board and win in whatever way I can,” she replied harshly.

Sirius sighed. He knew she had already experienced so much loss already. Who better than he and Remus to fraps the loss of her beloved parents in such a manner? He just wanted her to be safe, and Slytherin’s had left an ashy taste in his mouth years before she had been born.

Surprisingly, it was Harry who spoke first. “Sirius, they don’t heckle Hermione like they did before. None of them. They all leave her alone or are polite, some even friendly. She “fits in” with them now, and she’s made friends with a few of them. You know what happens when you don’t listen to Hermione?”

“Yeah, you regret it,” chuckled Sirius.

Hermione smiled wanly at her family before she said, “Did you know Draco Malfoy wrote to me over the summer and apologized? Before I had been adopted, Sirius. Before. I think seeing what the basilisk did to students shook him to the core. And did you know that Theo Nott has been studying with me in private since the middle of second year? He’s one of the few students I can argue intellectual points with just for fun. They are kids, Uncle, just like Harry and I. Kids screw up sometimes, and sometimes they grow wiser than their parents and decide to do something about it. I’m not saying I absolutely trust them, but I will give them a chance to earn my trust.”

“How did you get to be so kind, Hermione?” Sirius asked softly.

“I read a book about it,” she quipped, deadpan. Sirius and Harry lost it. Dotty tried to fight it, but she eventually gave in to the laughter, too. Hermione grinned, pleased she could elicit such joy from them. Happiness was something she would never again take for granted. She took her time to commit this moment to memory and file it away for later.

______

Hermione woke earlier than she would have liked, but she was still irate about the state she had discovered her belongings in when she had gone up to bed the night before. Her things were strewn about, rifled through, touched by hands not her own. Hermione did not like that. She didn’t know what they had been looking for but she highly doubted they had found it. She had decided they never would.

She tossed off her covers and grinned to herself as she set about jinxing all of her things. It wouldn’t harm the nosey parker exactly…but it would make everyone think twice about touching her things ever again without her permission. That was the point. That done, she set about her morning routine of showering, haircare, skincare, and packing for the day. She was out of her dorm room and on her way to breakfast before anyone else had even woken for the day, and breakfast would be illuminating.

The Gryffindor table was empty, as was every other table in the Hall. She cast a tempus charm to check the time, finding it was a few minutes until the food would appear. She sat where she could see the entry to the Hall as well as the heads’ table. She wanted to be sure she could keep an eye on Moody and his dodgy behavior. The professors slowly filtered in shortly before breakfast was served. Hermione made herself a simple breakfast of fruit, porridge, a bit of toast, and black tea. She was ready for the show to begin, even though she would once again end up the center of attention more likely than not.

The hall began to fill and Hermione too her time eating her meal. Unsurprisingly, Hermione had yet to see Parvati or Lavender enter for breakfast, and she smirked a bit to herself. Ginny came into the hall quickly, eyes daring across the table as if she were looking for something specific. Her eyes found Hermione’s, and she came to sit next to her immediately.

Hermione sat down her tea and gave Ginny full eye contact. “Something the matter, Ginny?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Why, yes, Hermione. Lavender and Parvati had to go to the hospital wing this morning. Very early this morning, in fact.”

“Did they now? Are they alright?” Hermione smirked.

“What do you know, Hermione?”

“Nothing at all Ginny. I’ve been here since before breakfast even started.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your issue, not mine.”

“Hermione, they pilfered through your things and got jinxed.”

“Oh! Is that what happened? I guess they’ll learn to keep their mitts off my stuff then. Shame, I invented that jinx. There’s simply no counter for it yet,” Hermione grinned, a bit evilly. Normally, the thought of someone being permanently scarred would garner some empathy from the curly-haired witch, but she could make exceptions. Especially for catty girls who treated her poorly and kept going through her things. Hermione was tired of playing nice.

Ginny’s bark of laughter startled the people around them, and he didn’t stop laughing until Professor McGonagall appeared alongside the table, looking terse. Ginny wiped the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, still immensely amused. Ginny didn’t like the witches either.

“Miss Ollivander?” Professor McGonagall was wearing her signature facial expression, though Hermione thought she might detect some humor hidden _very deeply_ in her eyes. Hermione could, however, be wrong, so she played it safe.

“Yes, Professor McGonagall?” Hermione responded; her tone polite.

“Did you curse your roommates?” That was McGonagall, always blunt and to the point. Hermione really appreciated that about her.

“Certainly not. When would I have had the time? I’ve been at breakfast since before you, and I didn’t see them at all last night,” Hermione replied, somewhat affronted.

“I thought not. Might you have, perhaps, spelled your personal items to deter theft?” McGonagall asked, quirking her mouth slightly.

“Oh. Well yes. I kept finding my personal items had been gone through when I returned to the dorms. I’m quite disagreeable to thievery and people being nosey. Not to mention, they could have been looking through my notes and assignments and trying to cheat,” Hermione replied seriously.

“We simply cannot have that. Will you come with me, Miss Ollivander? Perhaps you can help us remove the jinx?”

“I can certainly try Professor, but it’s one I created. Standard removals won’t work. I’ll see if I can work one out after I look them over,” Hermione said as she gathered her things. She left the great hall with her favorite Professor, who she was now certain, was trying not to laugh in front of the other students. This time, Hermione didn’t mind the attention she was getting.

They walked to the hospital wing was taken in comfortable silence. Once they arrived Hermione was taken to see Parvati and Lavender, who shrunk away from her in fear. Hermione fought not to smirk and instead studied them clinically, ignoring who they were as people essentially. The dark skin of Parvati’s forehead carried the word “THIEF” spelled out in large, white pustules. Lavender was better off, because she was so pale, but the pustules looked redder on her face making them just as noticeable. Their hands were wrapped in bandages from the stinging hex, likely. Hermione cast a diagnostic charm over them, looking to see that the jinx wasn’t currently active, and this was simply the end result of her handiwork.

Hermione turned to look at Madam Pomfrey then, knowing all she needed to. “I’m afraid I can’t reverse this without some permanent scarring. Might I suggest some burn salve for their hands? It was basically a triggered jinx for someone without my magical signature touching my things. It won’t hurt them or worsen to use salves. As for the pustules, they’ll remain active until I work out the counter-jinx. Until that time, I suggest bangs to cover them. It will likely scar no matter what I do, so the bangs may be necessary anyway.”

“Miss Ollivander, are you telling me you jinxed your things without knowing the counter-jinx?” questioned Madam Pomfrey.

“Well, how I was I to know my roommates were rooting through my things? One can’t be too careful!”

Madam Pomfrey sighed and adjusted her skirts. “Very well. Tell me the incantation and I shall help you work it out quicker.”

“No,” Hermione said firmly. “I created this jinx; it is my intellectual property. I will not be sharing it. I will come and fix it when I have it worked out.”

“Hermione,” Professor McGonagall interjected, “Would you allow me to help you with the creation of the counter?”

“Perhaps, but not here where they can be privy to it. I will not be taking the jinx off of my belongings, and I may even add some given the people I have _slept next to_ for the past three years have been going through my things,” Hermione replied, letting her irritation show.

“Yes well, you can protect your property however you might like. I doubt they will be touching anything of yours again anytime soon,” the Professor replied. “I’m rather cross with them myself for behaving as such.”

Hermione could see Parvati and Lavender shrink out of the corner of her eye. Good. They should be uncomfortable. Hermione knew the jinx would scar no matter how quickly she and McGonagall worked it out. Hermione had set the jinx to do it on purpose. Even without the counter jinx, it would take an age to heal.

“I can work on it this weekend, but I won’t skip classes because they were being nosey,” Hermione said coldly. She could hear a small whimper come from one of the girls. Hermione didn’t care.

“I suppose that is agreeable. Care to meet me in my office in the morning after breakfast then? It should be a secure place to work out the theory and then we can simply apply the counter to Miss Brown and Miss Patil.”

“That works for me, Professor. Thank you for understanding. I would also understand if you needed to give me some detention for this, as I know it’s going to likely scar them for the rest of their lives,” Hermione commented.

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you deserve detention for protecting your things here in the school. I’m not sure why these witches thought it would be alright to go through your things, but I won’t be giving you detention for being proactive. I don’t think I will be taking points from either of these two, but only because I find the punishment they’ve already gotten to be adequate,” Professor McGonagall said seriously. “I am very disappointed in the two of you. No excuse will suffice. Perhaps in the future you will learn to keep your hands to your own personal belongings.”

Hermione bid the matronly witch and her favorite professor adieu and headed to her first class for the day. She was rather shocked she hadn’t gotten at least a detention or a point loss, but she would not have cared if she had. She was tired of them treating her poorly and she was setting a boundary here and now. She wouldn’t be walked on anymore, no matter who was trying to do the stomping.

Classes flew by, and Hermione had taken notes and answered questions all day until she had found herself at lunch with everyone else. She was nervous about meeting Snape with Draco tonight, but it needed to be done. She had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Slytherin next. It was her last class for the day, and then she could go and get a head start on all her assignments. Lavender and Parvati had elected to stay in the Hospital Wing, which suited Hermione just fine.

 _D to H private message – Witch, what did you do?  
H – Whatever do you mean?_  
D – There _are rumors flying that you cursed your roommates! What did you do?  
H - Oh, that. Well, actually I put some anti-theft jinxes on my belongings because someone had been rifling through them. I didn’t know for sure who it was, and it happened to be them.  
D – Are you planning to reverse it?  
H – Sure, in a manner of speaking. Eventually. After I work out the counter this weekend.  
D – Are you sure you’re not a Slytherin?  
H – I mean, maybe? Unclear. Regardless, they should not have been touching my things.  
D- You’ll get no argument from me, Hermione. They’ve always been rude to you.  
H- Aww. Draco, I didn’t know you cared.  
D – More than you know, witch. More than you know…  
  
_

Harry found an empty seat across from Hermione and sat down heavily. He looked at her pointedly and waited for her to stop writing in that little book she’d taken to carrying around. He watched her eyebrows furrow in thought, and then set her pen down and shut the journal. She silently spelled it closed and then looked up at him.

“Hello, Harry. How are you today?”

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Why are you cursing people?”

Hermione broke out in laughter at his question, and then explained to him what had happened. She had to force thoughts of Draco to the back of her mind before she could answer him. She had to forget about his hand on hers, and the way he smelled, and the way his grey eyes had looked at her full of concern. She managed, somehow, and told the story to Harry. Harry looked increasingly more annoyed as she told him.

“You know, I don’t think I’m even that mad. Ron wanted me to ask you to reverse it be because he’s sort of seeing Lavender, but don’t. She deserves it,” Harry’s voice hardened.

“So glad you agree, Harry, because I’m not doing _anything_ for Ronald anymore. I found…I learned some things I’m really not sure how to deal with and I really don’t want to be around him anymore. I just, he is too immature, and I can’t deal with it. I refuse to put up with it anymore in any capacity. I know you’re still his friend, but I don’t want to be right now. And I don’t like the way he has been treating you.”

“I guess that makes two of us, Mi,” Harry said grimly.

“I’m not sure what else to say then. I’m just done with all of it. I’m tired of the way people treat me. I get that I’m bossy and a swot and all that, but honestly, I’m not a doormat and I’m not going to be treated like I am anymore. If Ron wants to date Lavender, he’ll have to learn to deal with scars.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens, then,” Harry replied. He didn’t feel like talking about it anymore. There was nothing he could do to change his errant best friend. He had carried a torch for Hermione, whether he had been aware of it or not, and he had treated her poorly. If Harry were a witch, he couldn’t imagine he would have put up with it either.

Hermione shrugged, “Ready to head to Defense?”

“Yeah, let’s get going. I’ve not heard anything about his class from other students, and I admit to being curious about what he’s up to. Yes, Hermione, I know. I’m staying away from him,” Harry smiled weakly.

“Good. I don’t trust him, and Dumbledore doesn’t have the best hiring record with Defense,” Hermione replied. They gathered their things and left the hall together, only to be joined by Theo, Blaise, and Draco as they were exiting. They didn’t pay attention to the looks they were getting from everyone else, namely one ginger-haired wizard.

“Are you guys headed to Defense, too?” asked Theo with a smile.

“Yep. That’s the one,” Hermione responded with a smile.

“Want to walk together?” Blaise asked politely.

“Are you going to hex me, Zabini?” Harry asked suddenly. Hermione could not hold in the snort which followed the question.

“Not likely,” Blaise replied with a grin. Harry responded with a smile in return.

“Well, this is bloody odd,” Draco commented.

“You’re not wrong, but it’s preferable to last year and the fighting in the halls,” Hermione said sweetly.

“You know, I do believe you’re right. This is much better,” Draco said with a smile.

Harry rolled his eyes at the two of them, grumbling under his breath about sorting hats and _confundus_ charms. Blaise and Theo must have heard him. “I think you’re right, Potter. Hermione would have done well in Slytherin,” Theo said with a smirk.

“She’s scary that one,” Blaise agreed.

Hermione, not wanting to break up the bonding time between them, simply let them talk as if she weren’t there. Draco watched her out of the corner of his eye, smirking at her facial expression. He could see her worrying on her bottom lip like she was fighting not to jump in and say something. “Definitely. She’s so sneaky,” Draco said with a grin.

“I am not sneaky!” Hermione objected. The four boys around her just started to chuckle, pleased to have finally gotten a reaction. “You lot are going to drive me mad.”

“We’ll be fine as long as we don’t go through your things though, right?” Draco asked with a smirk.

“Probably. I don’t condone thievery,” Hermione smiled.

“Oi, what’s this about then?” Blaise asked, looking lost.

“Oh, Hermione jinxed her roommates for going through her stuff,” Harry replied with a shrug.

“No! You jinxed them?” Blaise asked with wide eyes.

“I don’t like it when people touch my things,” Hermione sniffed.

“She really doesn’t,” Theo laughed. “I snatched her notes once and she hit me with a stinging hex!”

“You should have asked!” Hermione exclaimed, defending herself.

“I did! You were too lost in your thoughts!” Theo retorted.

Draco chuckled under his breath. This whole situation was strange, but he could see it. HE could see Hermione working on some assignment and getting completely lost in thought as she was writing it. Theo would have asked first because it was only polite, and then when he asked for the third time and she didn’t answer he attempted to take her notes, and Gran—Ollivander hexed him without breaking her concentration. Yes, that seemed likely actually.

Hermione was mumbling, but she had a smile on her face. Draco liked that she was smiling, and he liked that she seemed a little bit lighter today than she had last night. He wasn’t sure why he cared, but he was glad to see it. He hadn’t seen her smile like that since before term had begun, and he had apparently missed her smile.

Wait, he what? Draco shook his head. That was an odd thought to have, missing Hermione’s smile. How strange. And where had it come from? Draco didn’t know, but he could see they had made it all the way to the Defense classroom already.

The five of them sat near each other in class, pleased with the joking atmosphere and not wanting to relinquish it. Harry Potter never would have thought to be joking with Draco Malfoy, or Blaise Zabini, or Theo Nott, but…Hermione had been right. These wizards were nothing like he had thought originally. They were just like him. Teenage boys who liked Quidditch. More importantly, they were teenaged boys who treated Hermione properly. That most definitely mattered to him.

Without even realizing it, all four of the boys had sat around Hermione. Harry sat to her right, Draco to her left, Theo and Blaise sat at the desks behind her. Hermione hadn’t been paying attention at first, but she found she was rather glad of it after Ronald had walked in with his group, glaring daggers at her. She would much rather not interact with him at all if possible. Dean and Seamus came in on either side of him. Parvati and Lavender were still missing, and Hermione didn’t mind. Neville seemed to be the only one who wasn’t choosing a side, and she couldn’t fault him for that. He sat between Harry and Ron, though, looking to keep the peace likely.

The rest of the students filtered in and took their seats. Pansy Parkinson gave her a look but didn’t say a word. She sat on the furthest side of the room with the rest of the Slytherin house students, but she noticed they didn’t mind sitting next to any of their classmates. That was a step up because if this had happened last year, they would have been ostracized from their house for speaking with her.

_Within minutes their new professor swept into the room, wood leg clunking on the stone floor. “Welcome class. My name is Alastor Moody. Ex-Auror. Ministry Malcontent, and your new Defense of Dark Arts Teacher. I’m here because Dumbledore asked me. Goodbye, the end. Any questions?”_

_The class remained quiet. “I believe in a hands-on approach to teaching the Dark Arts. Now, who can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?”_

_The grizzled man turned his back to the classroom and picked up the chalk. “Miss Ollivander?”_

_“There are three, sir. So named because they are horrible and use of any of them-“_

_“Will end you a one-way trip to Azkaban! That’s correct!” Moody finished as he wrote on the board. “Now, which should we see first? Weasley!”_

_Ron stood, looking paler than usual, and rather scared. “Yes sir!”_

_“Stand!” Ron stood slowly. “Give us a curse.”_

_“Well,” he said stuttering slightly, “my father did tell me about one. The Imperius Curse.”_

_He turned his back on Ron and went to his desk, gathering an insect from a jar. He muttered under his breath and cast the curse, and flung the spider onto the desk in front of him. He flung the spider around the room until the students were laughing, and then he said, “Talented isn’t she? What should we have her do next? Jump out the window? Drown herself?”_

_The classroom quieted down and became somber. “The Imperius Curse was used widely by You-Know-Who and his followers. Scores of witches and wizards claimed the Imperius in relation to him, but here’s the rub; how do we sort out the liars.”_

_“Let’s have another one then. Longbottom?”_

_Neville stood up, clearly unhappy to have been called upon. “I know of one, the-the Cruciatus?”_

_“Ah, yes. Come, come,” Moody beckoned Neville over to his desk where he cast the curse on the spider. The spider immediately started to let loose screeches of pain and torment, and Neville looked away. He was unwilling to watch, unwilling to think this is what his parents’ experienced until they were mad. Hermione watched Mood closely as he focused on the curse and torturing the defenseless spider. He looked mad, he truly did. Hermione was more thankful than ever for Dotty’s observation._

_“Stop it!” Hermione yelled. “Can’t you see it’s bothering him?!”_

_Mood snapped out of…whatever he was so focused on and ceased the curse immediately. He then flung the spider onto Hermione’s desk and approached her slowly._

_“Perhaps, Miss Ollivander, you can give us the last curse?”_

_Hermione refused to answer the man. Refused to participate in this farce of a lesson. Harry and Draco were looking at her, from either side. She could see that Draco was curious about her reaction, but he didn’t say anything. Hermione shook her head._

_“No? Well—” and then moody forcefully said, “Avada Kedavra!”_

_The spider fell dead on Hermione’s desk. “The Killing Curse. There’s only one person to have ever survived it, and he is in this room,” Moody said approaching Harry._

_Harry looked up at him, not knowing what to say. Suddenly, the Professor started grabbing for something and his face went slightly red. He pulled out his flask, and tongue darted out to the left side of his mouth and then back in. It was so quick before he took a pull and seemed normal again._

Draco narrowed his eyes. Something about that movement had seemed so familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He filed it away for later to discuss with Blaise and Theo. Maybe they had seen it before or make a connection that he could not. It bothered him, and a heavy ball of dread lined his stomach. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like this feeling.

Professor Moody dismissed the class shortly, demanding 12 inches on the Unforgivable Curses, possible ways to defend from them, and how they might mark a person after their use. Hermione had half a mind to spit in his face, she was so angry. Neville was still pale and barely holding it together. Hermione really needed to find a private place to work so she could the enchantments figured out. No one should be able to use those fucking curses. Not one more day than she could help it.

The class left quickly and silently, not even wanting to grumble about the essay they’d been charged with writing by next week. Hermione just wanted out of that room, and she wanted out yesterday. What the hell had Dumbledore been thinking? Why would he hire someone like that to teach children? He was obviously insane!

She escaped the room and finally felt like she might be able to breathe again, albeit, not as deeply as she might have liked. She was too angry. “Well, that was…that was something,” Theo remarked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice distant.

“Can we not? Can we just…go to dinner and not talk about this? Please?” Hermione asked, stomach queasy. She couldn’t fathom imagining her parents being subjected to any of those curses. They didn’t have a way to defend themselves from such things, and it hurt too much to think about. It hurt far too much to consider her parents writhing on their living room floor, unable to do anything but scream. Hermione shook her head, trying to get the thoughts to stop.

Draco watched Hermione’s pale face, and her eyes looked haunted. He didn’t hold her hand like he had in the Room of Requirement. He couldn’t openly display that much affection in public, but he could brush the back of his hand against hers to show his support, so he did. It might be small, it might be silent, but…it was what he could do.

Hermione felt his hand touch hers, and she shot him a quick and small smile. She appreciated what he was trying to do. She needed a minute, perhaps a few days, before she could stop thinking about this. She needed to get those curses under control. She needed Snape to agree to work with them. She needed Harry safe, and she needed a constant watch on Moody’s actions. But right now, all she needed was to get her plan moving. If she could do that, she could do a lot of other things.

Blaise couldn’t stand the tension anymore and suggested that they all go and blow off some steam before dinner with a game of Quidditch. Malfoy and Nott agreed, and to their surprise, so did Harry. “I’ll bring Ginny, and maybe the twins. You guys can’t be prats, though,” Harry said sternly.

Hermione begged off. She didn’t want to go and watch them play Quidditch. She needed to be alone and she needed to start working on how to eradicate the Unforgivable curses. She couldn’t focus on anything else right then. She was thankful it was the last day of classes this week for her. Her nerves were shot, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to pay attention to anything else.

Just before they parted, Draco brushed the back of his hand against Hermione’s again. She shot him a grateful look. She was thankful for what he was trying to offer, she really was. She didn’t want to think about how delicious he smelled, or how it caused butterflies in her stomach when he touched her like that. Like he cared. Like he was looking after her. No, Hermione had more important things to think about. She traipsed back to the Tower with Harry so he could grab his broom, and so Hermione could drop of her items in her room before heading to the Room of Requirement. She had research to do, and she needed to do it now. She had the curses fresh in her mind, and it was the first time she had ever seen them.

She really hoped it would be the last she ever saw of them, but somehow she doubted she would be so lucky. 


	16. With Friends Like These

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on Chapter 19 guys ;)

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191417213@N06/50711461227/in/dateposted-public/)

The trip to the Great Hall felt longer than she remembered it being. Hermione knew she was exhausted magically and that was certainly part of the issue. Compounding magical exhaustion with her lack of sleep and skipping lunch? It was no surprise she found herself tired and dizzy. None whatsoever. She should have at least grabbed a snack.

She supposed it wasn't all that shocking she found her mind simply would not be reigned in or directed in a singular direction during her trek. She needed to figure out how to handle the Weasley situation. Ginny had definitely been hinting at the matriarch's intentions, but she didn't seem to be able to speak plainly about it. Was it possible she was under some sort of vow not to divulge the secret? Hermione wouldn't be shocked of Molly had sworn Ginny to silence. Molly Weasley would evidently go to great lengths to get what she desired, and Hermione would not forget that any time soon. Could this have also been the reason Dumbledore had fought so vehemently against her to free Sirius? Somehow, Hermione didn't find it likely to be a coincidence. She needed to speak with Ginny and Harry privately, but not yet. She needed to research first, to be sure she could find them a work-around. She wouldn't deprive Harry of Ginny, or vice-versa should they actually choose one another. Harry deserved happiness, and she wouldn't seek to keep it from him.

There was also the matter of Draco. Hermione had to deliver on her promise to keep him and Narcissa safe. She would not be telling Dumbledore about them, so she would need to make alternative arrangements. She wondered if Gabby or her Opa would be willing to assist her in that regard. They would likely have several places that could house them and be considered safe…because Lucius Malfoy was not someone she could see herself even approaching, and furthermore, his own son seemed to think him to be a lost cause. No, she would have much to discuss with her Opa when she went home for the holidays in a few months. She was sure he would have an idea; the man was a consummate Slytherin.

Finally! Hermione could smell the delicious food wafting from the Great Hall. Her feet had carried her without much thought, traversing the castle on autopilot while she pondered her schemes and possible resolutions. She would have thought she was much later than she appeared to be, as the owls hadn't come in to deliver the nightly post yet. She absently wondered if this was how Luna felt all the time, all in her head, disconnected and floaty. Hermione could admit she didn't find it unpleasant, but it was rather odd.

_"_ _Enough,"_ she thought to her herself. _"Go eat you daft bint, before you pass out from exhaustion."_ She shook her head clear of her thoughts and walked the length of the table until she found an empty seat next to Ginny. She plopped down and loaded her plate with food, eating before Ginny had noticed she had arrived.

"Hello to you too, Hermione," Ginny remarked with an arched eyebrow. "Why are you so ravenous?"

Hermione finished her bite before answering, "It's magical exhaustion. I'm desperately in need of food or I'm going to pass out. Will you pass me a roll, please?"

Ginny did so. "And what have you been doing to exhaust your magical core?"

"Practicing counter-jinxes and some wandless spells."

Ginny just nodded. It made sense; Hermione was so widely accepted to be a swot that if she was studying, people quit asking questions. Hermione had decided to lean into it and use it to her advantage. It came in handy. Perhaps she had been improperly sorted…

A few minutes later the owl arrived with the nightly post and the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. A copy was dropped in front of Hermione, and the cheeky bugger stole some of the roast from her plate before taking his leave. Hermione rolled her eyes at the bird but grabbed the paper and flipped it open. Hermione dropped her fork on her plate. There on the front page was a picture of her with Ron, and some smaller ones with Harry.

**_Hermione Granger-Ollivander: Death Eater Sympathizer or Half-Niffler?_ **

**_Good evening my most loyal readers. Have I, Rita Skeeter, got the scoop for you?! It Is my duty as your journalist to report the occurrences at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Just yesterday, Miss Granger-Ollivander was seen doting on Harry Potter, Viktor Krum, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott._ **

**_This reporter was on site when the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, pulled the names from the Goblet of Fire to select the champions for the Tournament. As you all know, the Tournament is meant to foster friendships throughout all magical schools, by giving the students a chance to come together. The first competitor chosen from the cup was none other than the famous Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang. Mr. Krum was witnessed to be "making eyes" at Miss Granger-Ollivander as he took his place at the front of the room. Could this mean the two of them are dating?_ **

**_The second competitor name for Beauxbatons was Fleur Delacour. This is unsurprising, as the witch is the first in her class and is descended from a long line of French aristocrats. Miss Delacour accepted gracefully, though this reporter did not miss the look of scorn exhibited by her once she noticed the looks Mr. Krum was directing at Miss Granger-Ollivander. Could it be that Miss Granger-Ollivander has some competition for Mr. Krum's affection? This reporter thinks it might be so, and what a competition it will be. Miss Delacour is far more approachable than Miss Granger-Ollivander, who is a plain girl of fifteen. The third name competitor from our very own Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory. He is a well-liked boy among his peers and accepted the position with poise, despite the cheers of encouragement that erupted in the hall once his name was read out by the Headmaster._ **

**_Most surprisingly, though, was the cup offered a choice for a fourth competitor, which has never happened in the history of the Tournament. Would any of my lovely readers dare to hazard a guess? If you guessed Harry Potter, you would be correct! Mr. Potter, fourteen, seemed to be very confused at this development, however, this reporter managed to catch the smirk on the young man's face when Miss Granger-Ollivander came to his defense in front of the attendees in the Great Hall._ **

**_According to Mr. Ronald Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter and former paramour of Hermione Granger-Ollivander, Miss Granger-Ollivander has also been seen in the company of none other than Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. Mr. Weasley reports, "Hermione used to be one of my best friends. I thought to make her mine one day, but that does not seem to be in the cards now. I've seen her hanging around with Malfoy and the others. Though I am sure nothing is going on between her and Harry, I'm having a hard time not questioning their relationship lately. I don't know what she's playing at, but I for one don't want to be a part of any of it."_ **

**_Miss Granger-Ollivander has been seen with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley very often since her introduction into our fair corner of Wizarding Britain. She has been rumored to be dating Harry Potter, as well as Ronald Weasley more than once. Could it have been a love triangle? The intelligent, yet plain girl has not let her heritage dissuade her from making friends with important figures. What could her plans be?_ **

**_Is one wizard not enough for this plain and ordinary witch? The young woman is Muggle-Born and is seemingly intent on snatching up all of Britain's eligible princes before she is even out of Hogwarts. If any of my most valuable readers had plans to make one of these wizards their intended, I suggest they moving quickly to get a betrothal contract into place!_ **

**_Stay tuned, readers. I will be covering the Tri-Wizard Tournament events as they take place, and I'll keep you up to date on the actions of Miss Hermione Granger-Ollivander._ **

**_-Rita Skeeter_ **

As soon as Hermione had finished reading the filthy, disparaging, and untruthful article she discovered how much of her magic had been recuperated from her meal. Purely on instinct, she cast a wandless and wordless _incendio_ destroying the paper to ash. She fought to keep her face impassive, though she could scarcely hear for the blood pounding in her ears. The steady woosh-woosh-woosh sound drowned out the chattering gossip she was sure was taking place all around her.

"Ginny?" Hermione ground out. She had to keep her voice tightly controlled, or she was going to start screaming and she would not stop until she had said her piece.

"Mi?" Ginny's voice was laced with trepidation.

"Get your brother out of the Great Hall before Harry or I maim him irreparably. He's gone and done something incredibly stupid," Hermione hissed.

Ginny just nodded. She didn't question Hermione's mood. She didn't bother to defend her errant brother. She got up from the table and sought to do as Hermione asked because she had seen Hermione this upset before. She was aware of what Hermione was capable of, and Harry was no different when he was in a temper. Hermione already had the beginnings of a plan rolling around in her head, but she would need to speak with the others as well. After all, she and Harry were not the only ones to be slandered. Rita Skeeter, though? Oh, she was Hermione's prey. Skeeter had made several mistakes, one of which had been to call her a muggle-Born.

Hermione rose from the table with as much poise and grace as she could muster. Her muscles were fraught with tension she was so angry. Harry was at a late Quidditch practice running Seeker drills with Oliver Wood before the upcoming game. He wouldn't have seen the paper yet, and Hermione wanted to make sure he didn't go off and do something foolish in his anger.

She could feel the eyes of the other students watching her as she made her exit from the Great Hall. She ignored them. She had a limited amount of time before she was to meet Draco in the dungeons, and the pitch was a fair walk from the castle.

It was fortunate for Hermione then, that she ran into Harry coming back to the castle from the pitch. He had his broom held in one hand, and the paper still rolled up loosely in the other. He hadn't read it yet; she could tell from the way he was acting. Good, he could yell out here and it wouldn't alarm anything but the birds, and he was going to want to yell.

"Mi? What are you doing out here? I was just coming to dinner," Harry greeted her with a smile. _Oh, Harry, if you only knew you would not be smiling. I'm sorry to have to ruin your good mood._

"Harry, something has happened and you're going to be upset by it," Hermione replied with no preamble. There was no way to soften the betrayal of a friend, and she wasn't going to attempt to do so. Ronald Weasley made his own bed, and the consequences would be his alone. She would do nothing to soften the blow for him.

"Okay, Mi. I'm sure whatever it is, we can handle it together. We usually do," he chuckled. "What is it?"

Hermione gestured to the loosely held paper in his hand, a silent indicator that he should see for himself. Harry gave her a look of confusion but opened the paper. She couldn't see his face clearly as it was dark and partly hidden by the paper, but she could feel the spike in his magical aura when he reached to quote from Ron. She cast a silencing charm around them. Three…two…one…

"Are you fucking kidding me?! What's he playing at? This makes no sense! Krum hasn't even spoken to you! Everyone knows you're like my sister! This is a complete and utter tripe! What the fuck was he thinking? How dare he talk to the press about us?! Where the fuck is he? I'm going to hex him!" And on and on it went. For another ten minutes. He paced back and forth in front of her as he yelled his irritations and frustrations into the night sky, with only her for a witness. Hermione waited until his steps started to slow, then stop. She waited for his breathing to reach a normal pattern before she spoke.

"I have a plan, Harry. I think. It will require you to be okay with my Slytherin friends, and it will hinge on you controlling your temper." It was said too calmly. She was so, so very angry, but the rage inside of her sat deep within the pit of her stomach. It sat still, it waited to be unleashed, and it burned in its coldness. Hermione could control this. Hermione would hold tight reigns on it until she could give it over to its purpose. She would control this.

Harry looked at her with angry, pain-filled eyes. "What do you need me to do, Mi? This can't stand. Rona can't get away with this, he can't slander us like in the press. He doesn't get to betray us like this because he's pissed you won't date him, because he's pissed you scarred Lavender for being a foul thief. I can stay calm if you've got a plan."

Hermione smiled a cold, cruel, calculating smile. "Oh, I have a plan, brother mine. Can you maintain control long enough for us to chat with the Slytherin's first? They would need to be involved for this to work, and it would go far to show the world that we are more than just our house rivalries. If we can get them on board, Ronald Weasley will be in for a cruel awakening."

"I will refrain from hexing his bollocks off. You tell me when and where to be, Mi, and I'll be there." His voice was cold as he answered her. The chill in the September air had nothing on the lack of feeling in his voice. Hermione had never heard his voice so cold, and that did not bode well for Ron.

"Do not speak to him until we've worked out how we are going to handle this situation. Not a sound. Ignore him. He does not exist to you. I'll talk to the Slytherin's and arrange a time and place to meet, and let you know soon. I'm actually about to go and meet Draco in the dungeons to speak with Professor Snape. He's got some extra credit brewing opportunities for us."

"It's still weird to hear you refer to him as Draco," Harry said flatly. "Yeah, okay. I can do that. I can do all that. I'm so mad he may as well not exist to me anymore. Let me walk you back to the castle. I'm hungry, and I know you don't want to be late," he offered. His voice leveled out some more, a sure sign that he was in control of his temper.

Pleased with his reaction, Hermione took his arm and they walked in companionable rage, if there ever was such a thing, back up to the castle. Harry went to get something in his stomach before he withered away to nothing, while Hermione veered off toward the dungeons to meet Draco for their meeting with Snape. Honestly, could they not have one normal year?

Draco stood outside of Professor Snape's office door waiting for Hermione. He leaned with his back to the wall, his right leg bent at the knee, with the sole of his foot also flat on the wall. His hair didn't have as much gel in it as it had last year, and he looked languid as he lounged. He had one hand in his pocket, while his other was absently flicking his want and conjuring bubbles. He must have heard Hermione coming because he turned his head to watch her approach.

"All right?" Hermione nodded at him. "You handled that well, considering."

"Yes, well, I have plans to handle it better. Care to help me with those? Harry's game, too." She slowed her approach as she came to stand in front of him.

Draco's countenance darkened, "Yeah, sure. I think I can work with Potter this once. Weaslebee had no right to talk about you like that, or to betray your trust."

Hermione beamed at him. "Good, because it will be much better if everyone is involved. Room of Requirement soon with the others. Are you ready to do this?" She motioned towards the door with her head.

"Are you?" Draco teased her.

Hermione scoffed at him. Pointing at herself she rolled her eyes and said, "Gryffindor," then she knocked politely but firmly on Professor Snape's office door. She was not, in fact, ready. She was furious at the days' events and felt like hitting someone in the face. Not Malfoy. No, someone with ginger hair. Unfortunately, she needed Severus Snape's assistance sooner rather than later, so her personal plotting of a vendetta was going to have to wait until later. This was too important to botch, and she really didn't relish the idea of having to duel the former Death Eater and spy if he wasn't amenable to her requests. She would likely lose.

"Enter," came a deep silky voice. Hermione rolled her eyes again. Honestly, the man was skilled at fitting boredom, irritation, and lack of interest into one syllable. Draco opened the door and held it for her, motioning her inside.

Professor Snape sat behind a large circular desk in his macabre office. There were jars full of questionable contents that Hermione really saw no reason to wonder about. She did her best to ignore them. The room was dark regardless of the candelabras and sconces in the room. He had not looked up at them, far too busy brutalizing an essay. He was nearly stabbing the parchment with his quill as he forcefully made his corrections. Hermione idly wondered how many quills he broke in a week. She took her cue from Draco and remained silent. It would not do any harm to let him finish his thought, especially as he seemed to be writing something particularly scathing. He did, however, gesture to the chairs across from the table as an indication that they should sit. So, they sat waiting a few more minutes, and Snape eventually glanced up from the essay he was demolishing with red ink.

"What brings you…" he stopped. He set his quill down and glanced between the two of them with a furrowed brow. No doubt he was wondering what these two particular students could possibly want from him, especially together. "Well, this is a new one for me. I know you two can't be here for assistance in class." He raised an eyebrow at them as if inviting them to speak.

"No, Godfather," Draco replied quickly. Ah, so this was not an academic visit. He would not be acting in his official capacity. Curious, though, that his godson had brought along Miss Granger-Ollivander.

"I see…or rather, I do not. What are you doing here, Miss Granger-Ollivander?"

"I came with Draco, sir. And it's just Ollivander," she said politely.

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits, suspicion dripping from his pores. "…Out with it. The suspense is killing me."

Draco nodded and turned to ward Snape's office against intruders and eavesdropping. You could never be too careful in Hogwarts, the walls had ears. He looked at Hermione and nodded for her to continue.

"Erm, okay. So, there's no simple way to ask this, but I would like for you to teach me Occlumency, sir." She fought not to fidget with her hands. She fought to sit still and look him in the eyes. She fought not to kick her feet like a child sitting in the big kid chair.

"And why, pray-tell, would I agree to that Miss Ollivander?" Still suspicious. Suspicious and lethal, and Hermione knew it.

"Perhaps it would be easier to show you, sir? In case," Hermione hedged and waved her hands around her at the room and the paintings. "It's not safe to discuss aloud in certain places."

"Very well, Miss Ollivander. Do I have your consent?"

Hermione looked him in the eyes, took a deep breath, and brought everything relevant to the forefront of her mind. She needed him to see a series of events, conversations, otherwise gleaned information, and it took her a few moments before she said, "Yes, sir."

Snape raised his wand and pointed it at Hermione, who was surprisingly calm. She hardly noticed the presence as he entered her mind. He slipped into her thoughts as if he were just one droplet of water in an otherwise larger conglomeration of them, blending into the pool of her thoughts seamlessly and with little in the way of ripples. He thankfully respected the meager boundaries she had set up for him and directed his attention to what she wanted him to be made privy to.

Hermione showed him how her parents had died. She showed him her grief, the conversation with Dumbledore about how he had lied about the way her parents died. She showed him Molly Weasley and how she had treated Hermione; she showed him the arguments and how she had come to be adopted by her Opa. She showed him her arithmancy equations and charm work, how she was working out how to enchant wands to refuse to cast an Unforgivable curse. How she had spoken with her Opa at length about her goals and the likelihood she would be able to do it. Hermione showed him all the conversations she had overheard, all the knowledge she had gleaned from books and past editions of the Prophet. She showed him her logical leaps in how she could trust him with all this knowledge, how she had managed to put together his role as a spy for the Order. She showed him her memories of how he always seemed to be trying to save Harry, how she wanted to save Harry and rid this world of Voldemort once and for all. How she was willing to play whatever part she needed to make sure the rest of her family lived and thrived. She brought forth the altercation with Dumbledore the previous night and how he had attempted to manipulate Harry into competing in the Tournament. She showed him Moody, and his behavior in class earlier that day, and the conversation with Dotty.

It might have been hours, it might have been minutes, but she felt him pull back from her mind. She was the sole inhabitant once more and was pleased for it. Hermione let out a huff of pain and buried her head in her hands. She knew Snape had been gentle, very gently, but she was unused to such intrusions and had a wicked headache to show for her efforts. She was shocked, however, when Draco gently put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back into the chair to rest. He placed a small vial in her hand which she took gratefully, immediately recognizing it as Pepper-Up from the color and scent. She was also grateful for the silence in the room while she waited for the potion to take effect. When she felt the headache begin to abate, she opened her eyes to see the two other parties in the room deep in conversation.

They were speaking, but she could not hear them. She realized they must have placed a silencing charm around her to keep the noise from bothering her. Hermione rose and walked toward the fireplace, where they were standing to give her a moment. She severed the silencing charm with a bit of wandless magic.

"Okay, tell me it gets better. That was very unpleasant," Hermione said softly.

"Eventually, yes, with practice. Think of the headache as a sign of a job well done. You exercised the muscle, so it's a little sore."

"Yes, Miss Ollivander. It is precisely that." Snape studied her closely. Hermione did not try to decipher his facial expressions. "You believe you could accomplish _this_ , after so little tutelage?"

"I've already made some progress. I just need some time to get the rest of it figured out and to perfect it."

"And you, Draco? You trust her?"

"As much as I trust Blaise or Theo."

Snape quirked an eyebrow at this admission. "And your combined sordid past of bullying and dueling in the hallways? All is forgiven and forgotten?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at her Professor. It was obvious he was trying to elicit a response with his goading. "Kids will be kids, Professor. It's hard to hold a child to such things when they grew up learning the very same. Besides, I've gotten a satisfactory apology," Draco scoffed in disbelief, muttering it was at least an Exceeds, "and he's been making it up to me. What are your thoughts? Honestly, I would rather not try and _obliviate_ you."

"You could try, but you would fail Miss Ollivander." Snape chuckled at her admission. "I think your plan has some merit, as insane as it is. So, I will agree to teach you and your friends Occlumency, though you're going to have to work very hard to learn it in such a short amount of time."

Hermione didn't miss it. He said they had a short amount of time to prepare. "I'm not averse to hard work, sir."

"Obviously." He sneered at her, but Hermione didn't feel like it had the expected amount of bite in his tone of voice to be an insult. She decided to take that as praise. "I am concerned about Moody, as well. I'll have to keep an eye on him. I may even know who it is, but I cannot be certain without more information."

"What's this about Moody, now?" Draco asked curiously. He had been silent throughout their exchange, letting them figure out if they would be able to work with one another on their own. He had nearly swallowed his own tongue when she had threatened to _obliviate_ his Godfather but remained quiet. This bit about Moody, though, intrigued him. The man didn't seem right.

Hermione looked to Professor Snape, asking silently if Draco would be able to hide the information. If his shields would be strong enough should he be mentally assaulted? Snape gave her an imperceptible nod. "He has been training in these arts for years. His skill is passable."

Taking his word at face value, Hermione decided then and there to trust Draco Malfoy. She told Draco about her suspicions regarding Moody. He didn't interrupt her and looked thoughtful for a few moments after she finished speaking. She noticed he steepled his fingers when he thought about something. "I thought something seemed oddly familiar about him earlier. Godfather? Look at the memory from class?"

Nodding, Snape delved into Draco's mind. In just a few moments she could tell when Snape pulled out of the memory. "We may have a problem. I think, possibly, Moody is not Moody at all, but Barty Crouch Jr."

Hermione gasped. "You mean the Death Eater that escaped from Azkaban?"

"The very same one. If he is here, that is not good news. I will have to look further into this and find a way to bring it to Dumbledore's attention. From the memory you showed me, it looks like it could be Polyjuice."

"That damn flask! Oh, that makes so much sense. I've got to keep Harry away from that tosser," Hermione seethed.

"Indeed, Miss Ollivander. I can see you usually meet with your friends in the Room of Requirement. Draco can pass me the time you will be meeting, and I will come and assist you with your training. For now, I need to do something sleuthing and plotting of my own." It was an obvious dismissal. "Oh, and Draco, make sure Slytherin house is aware that Miss Ollivander here is to be considered one of our own. We will help her and support her. She's going to need all the help she can get, but we will do it quietly unless we're not able to. There will be many who will object."

Hermione's eyes widened, but she was not about to protest. She knew that house rivalries ran deeply in Hogwarts, and it was a fucking problem. Part of her long-term plan was to eradicate all of that nonsense. It would be mighty useful to have some more friends in Slytherin house, especially if Ronald were going to continue to do stupid things to set her back in the eyes of her peers. She knew he lashed out when he was angry, but she would not be dealing with it any longer.

"Thank you, sir, for your assistance. Goodnight," Hermione bid as she left his office. She heard Draco say something else to Snape, and then he followed her out of the office as well.

"Let me walk you back to your common room," Draco asked, proffering his arm to her politely.

She smiled in thanks and took his arm. She never would have imagined in her wildest dreams that Draco Malfoy would be willingly escorting a lion back to her den, but she was glad for it. She was beyond tired, and the legilimancy had not helped. The Pepper-Up had provided a short energy boost, but it was already waning. All Hermione desired was her bed and about fourteen hours of sleep. She would have to settle for less, likely.

"I'm still not sure what you're plotting, but the fact that my godfather seems to think it has merit is a good sign, even if he called it an insane venture," Draco commented politely.

"I hope so. I will reveal it when we can all keep our secrets better. Thank you for walking me back, by the way." Hermione squeezed his arm in a half hug. "I find I'm wrung out."

"It's my pleasure, Hermione. I know how tired it can make you, after, and you were betrayed by someone you considered a friend today. Both leave much to be desired," Draco replied, his tone kind.

"It does, indeed. I'm not sure we _were_ friends after the events of the World Cup. He was so rude to you all, and to me, simply because I was speaking with you. I don't know that I would enjoy keeping his company when he behaves so crudely," Hermione replied seriously.

"Regardless, it is not an easy thing. I am sorry for your pain."

Hermione squeezed his arm again, as they neared the Fat Lady. "Thank you again for escorting me. Would you mind speaking with Blaise and Theo? I'd like to meet with everyone in the Room tomorrow to discuss the plan."

"Sure, I'll send you a message later tonight. Sleep well, Hermione." Draco removed her hand from his elbow and placed a small kiss on the back of it before releasing her.

"You too, Draco." She smiled tiredly at him before turning to demand entry into her home away from home.

Hermione entered to find the common room was a jumbled mess. She didn't see Ron or Harry, so she hoped Harry was ignoring him elsewhere. It was loud, and she was not in the mood for it. She climbed her way up to her dorm room, only to find Ginny sitting on her bed.

"Hey, Mi." Ginny smiled at her, sadly.

"Hey, Ginny. What's up?" Hermione went about getting ready for bed. She divested herself of her school robes and changed into some warm and comfortable pajamas.

"I figured it would be okay if I kept you company since Parvati and Lavender aren't going to come back from the Hospital Wing for a few days. That okay?"

"Oh yeah, sure. I don't mind. I'm right knackered tonight, though. Do you mind if we get comfortable and go to bed?"

"Not at all. I'm tired from wrangling Ron."

"Sorry about that. I know he can be a handful, but if I had to look at his face, I was going to hex it off."

"Well, I can't really blame you there, Mi. I wanted to do it for you, and it wasn't me he was talking about. He's my brother and I love him, but he does some stupid shite. He is the King of Prats."

Hermione huffed a laugh. "That he is. How did Harry handle it?"

"It was the strangest thing. He just acted as if Ron didn't exist until Ron left him alone. I could tell it was hard for him, but he didn't speak a word. He didn't even look at him. It doesn't help that he had been spreading rumors about Harry entering his name into the Goblet."

"Now I really want to hex his face off."

"King. Of. Prats."

Hermione yawned and climbed into bed, and Ginny climbed in next to her. "Goodnight, Mi."

"Night, Ginny."

Hermione woke to Ginny screaming. Hermione shook her shoulder and called her name. "Gin! Wake up, Ginny!" Ginny did not escape from her dream. She seemed unable to wake up. Swearing, Hermione grabbed her wand and cast an _augamenti_ over her sleeping, thrashing form.

Ginny spluttered awake when the cold water woke her and immediately started crying. Hermione cast a drying charm over her friend and then pulled her into a hug. She cradled Ginny against her making shushing noises, rubbing her hand up and down her back to soothe her.

Ginny eventually began to quiet as Hermione shushed her. It was obvious the witch was terrified by her dreams, but Hermione wanted to make sure she was calm before she asked her what was wrong. She whispered it was alright, she whispered she was there with her. She whispered she would help her, and made all the noises a friend makes when they know you're in pain. She rubbed her hand in circles across her upper back, trying to calm her.

When she could feel Ginny's breathing evening out, she asked, "Ginny, what has you so terrified?"

"It's the damn diary! I dream about it all the time. I do whatever I can to get it out of my head, but it always seems to come back! I keep seeing his stupid face, and his words. How do I make this stop, Mi? I don't know what else to do!" Ginny broke down into sobs again.

Hermione didn't know how to help her friend, who was obviously confused and in a lot of pain. "Do you want me to look into it, Ginny? I can do some research?"

"Please! Please, Mi. My Mum just says it will fade with time, but it's not fading, and I don't know how to deal with this! It's like it's always in my head, in my dreams, and I'm scared to sleep because of the blackouts. I don't know what happened and that scares me. I don't know how to make this stop."

"Of course, Ginny. I'll see what I can find out. Come here, let's get some more rest. I'll owl Opa in the morning and see what he has to say about it. I'll get some books from Sirius, too. I'll look into it okay? Shh. Shh."

Hermione held Ginny and shushed her until she fell asleep again. Hermione lie in bed wondering what the hell Molly Weasley had been doing to help her daughter. The answer was obviously nothing, but something needed to be done. Ginny was in torment. Granted that diary had been evil, and it had almost killed her and Harry both…What kind of thing can do that? It was an inanimate object, so why did it seem to have so much power over her friends?

She could ask Draco and Snape about it, too. They might have some sort of idea since Snape had been in the inner circle and Draco's father was the one to drop it into Ginny's cauldron at the beginning of last year. Her Opa might also have some ideas. Hermione hadn't really talked with him about last year, but she was sure he would have some kind of information, or at least know where she could look for it.

Hermione sighed. Ginny's breathing was finally calm and even, and Hermione had another thing to add to her list of things to do. _I could really use a Time-Turner this year,_ she thought. She wouldn't be asking about getting one granted for her use though. She knew she would never sleep if she had one at her disposal. But it would have been damned useful to have one, just in case.


	17. Who Needs Enemies?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello my lovelies. This is going to have a bit of a time skip in it for you all. I personally don't feel like writing Hermione's each and every day, and I feel like we're solid in the time and the events now that I don't need to. This is also a rather long chapter, as I felt there was a lot that needed to happen in it. :D If you find anything is unclear, please shoot me a message and bring it to my attention so I can fix it. Also, there's a playlist now. I did the thing.
> 
> open dot spotify dot com/playlist/2AMoZ4tvZBMkYFxLxGqCnv?si=tJZLWuHXQVesYaAXdAXJgQ - Or you can just search Cursing the Unforgivables on Spotify :)

Chapter 17 – Who Needs Enemies?

It had been a hell of a week. A hell of a month really. It seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn't keep up with the state of affairs. After receiving the owl back from her Opa regarding Ginny's predicament, Hermione had scarcely had time to breathe. She felt as if she were in a constant state of panic, and she supposed that was somewhat normal given everything. Sirius had also sent her some texts, and Hermione wasn't even supposed to have those, ever. She was fairly sure a few of them were illegal.

Keeping true to her word, she had researched extensively for Ginny. There was no reason the girl should be so tormented by something she honestly couldn't have had any control over. The more she spoke with her friend about her experiences, the more certain Hermione had become that her Opa's assumptions were correct.

Ginny was so very tormented because the damn thing had been a Dark artifact A very Dark artifact, actually. Short of _obliviating_ her or pulling the memory from her to make it less potent, Hermione hadn't found a thing that could help her sleep at night. She was going to go to Snape to see if he would pull the memory out of Ginny's head, and speak to him about how it would affect her remembering what happened at length. It wouldn't do Ginny any good if it was just as potent as it had always been, after all.

_"Thank Godric for Draco's indexing spell,"_ Hermione thought. He had shown it to her a while ago in the Room of Requirement. She had escaped for some peace and quiet to study and work on her many side projects. Thankfully, if she knew how to ask the room for exactly what she wanted, it would reappear for her when needed. She could also choose to allow or bar entry, and she only allowed a few people inside when she got like that. Draco was one of them.

_He had shown up to find her sitting cross-legged in the corner of the room on a futon, a table in front of her at just the right height for taking notes. There were nearly fifty books scattered and piled around her, at least fifteen of them open so she could reference them while she took notes vigorously. She had been so lost in her task she had not heard him enter._

_"Ollivander, you're going to work yourself to death." Hermione looked up to see the white blond Slytherin eyeing her._

_Hermione huffed at him. "I have a lot to learn, in a very short amount of time, and a lot of the things I'm doing require intensive research Malfoy. I haven't slept more than four hours in_ weeks _. There aren't enough hours in the day." She blew some of her curls which had fallen into her eyes while she read off of her forehead. She was wearing what looked like Muggle clothes, which he hadn't seen her in since the beginning of term._

_"How many things are you working yourself to the bone over, Hermione? You know you're only one person, right? You can't do everything by yourself. It's okay to ask for help, little Gryffindor. And don't call me Malfoy."_

_"Don't call me Ollivander, then." She grinned at him, but he could see she was exhausted. "Just, I didn't really want to bring it up with you because part of it is about Ginny and the Chamber. We know Lucius slipped that diary into her cauldron and she's…still suffering from it. She sleeps with my most nights because she has nightmares and wakes up hysterical." Draco flinched, but Hermione continued on. "I've been looking into what it was and it's rather bloody terrifying to be honest. I think the only way to help her is to remove the memories, because otherwise she's going to go mad over time." Hermione sighed again. "And that is just one of my projects. All I know for sure is it was Dark magic and I'm researching to see if I can find out what it actually was."_

_"So that's what these are about? You're looking for specific information?" Draco smiled at her, because he could actually help her this time. He might not be able to tell her what the diary was, but he could help her find out._

_Hermione hummed her response, already back to takin notes at her table. "Hermione, stop. Let me show you something. I can actually help you with this, at least to a degree. I know my father, Lucius, put that in her cauldron, but I don't know what it was. I didn't even know he had done it until I heard a conversation months later, though I am sorry for it. Let me show you this, okay? It'll help and you should be able to sleep more often."_

_"By all means, Draco. Illuminate me, please." Hermione smiled back at him. She really hoped he could help._

_"I created this spell. I honestly did it so I didn't have to do what you're doing right now. I enjoy Potions a lot, as you know, so sometimes I have to do extensive research if I'm wanting to make something new." Hermione nodded at his explanation. "What it does is to essentially read your books for you, find keywords or phrases, and then it'll catalogue them for you. It just saves time."_

_"That's brilliant! You're really willing to share this with me?"_

_"Does it mean you'll leave this room and eat more often?"_

_"Maybe."_

_"Then yes, I'll share it with you." Draco chuckled at her smile. He would do anything for that smile to be directed at him. Her honey and cinnamon eyes looked up at him filled with a bright light and joy. She was smiling so hard her left cheek was dimpling at him. Yeah, he would do a lot to see that expression on her face._

With Draco's help, Hermione had managed to get a lot more done in a few days than she could have in weeks. She had finally concluded the diary was dark, but she needed a direction to find out what it was. She wrote her discoveries to her Opa and to Sirius to see if they could send her down the right avenue, and she decided to talk to Professor Snape about removing the memory soon. Hermione trusted him to help Ginny get that out of her head safely. She would have done it for Ginny in a heartbeat, but she didn't have any experience with memory charms, and she would much rather not completely destroy her friend's mind on accident. No, Professor Snape was a much better choice.

Surprisingly, Professor Snape was oddly…companionable when he joined them in the Room of Requirement a few weeks ago. Now, that is not to say he was any less acerbic or sarcastic, but some of the bite was missing from his tone of voice. It was like he had dialed back on the coldness in his tone, but he remained aloof and clinical. Hermione could not blame the man. He was a spy; he had been a Death Eater during the first war. Hermione honestly didn't want to know what he had seen and experienced. She had a feeling she would have horrific memories all her own to contend with in a few years' time.

She was joined for Occlumency lessons by Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Luna Lovegood, and shockingly, Harry Potter. Harry had come to the room with Hermione to discuss how to handle the Ron and Rita Skeeter situation and ended up staying. That had been…unexpected, but not unwelcome. He would do well to protect his mind from everyone, and what had shocked Hermione the most was the lack of protest from Snape.

_"Hello everyone. I've got refreshments!" Luna skipped over to the table in the center of the room with a picnic basket. The only person who didn't seem to be shocked to see her enter the room was Hermione. Everyone else gave her a look of disbelief, and then looked at Hermione for an explanation._

_"Luna knows things, and she can get in here whenever she wants. Trust me, she already knows what we are doing, or has a general idea. Just accept the snacks and her presence. She's a good ally to have." Hermione hugged her friend and went back to what she had been reading before she was interrupted by curious looks._

_"Don't worry, I won't bite," Luna grinned at them. Blaise, in particular, seemed to think that was funny and he grinned back at her. He sauntered up to her to find something to snack on._

_"I don't think we're expecting anyone else. Honestly, I wasn't expecting Luna but I am glad for you presence," Hermione addressed everyone. "I thought about asking Ginny to come, but she's already getting enough flak from her Mum for not standing up for him to Harry and I. Her mental health really isn't worth it. I remember, a while back during our first meeting, we were discussing that Pureblood society has strict expectations for behavior, and if those are broken, then there are avenues of retribution available to the wronged parties. I'll be honest, I've been too busy with other things to properly look into this, so please, give me your suggestions and ideas."_

_Draco laughed aloud at her admitting ignorance, but she shot him a playful glare and let it be. She knew he didn't mean anything by it, given their previous conversation in this room. "Well, you could always duel him. I could duel him, as could Blaise, Potter, or Nott, technically. He was maligning all our characters, in the press. That's simply not done in polite society."_

_"I'd really like to punch the Weasel in the face," Theo remarked somewhat absently, as if he were thinking about it intently._

_"I think we can all agree on that, however, he's a malicious idiot. He's an_ idiot _who has no idea what he has actually done. So, how do you all want to handle it. We could all duel him, but there's also the option to oust him from society."_

_"The Weasley family doesn't really participate in polite society, though," this from Blaise._

_"No, they really don't. I've never heard them discuss anything Pureblood-like. They don't care, they don't follow the traditions, and they really don't seem to want anything to do with the parties or the like," Hermione inputted. "So what would the removal from society really gain us?"_

_"Well, for starters, no one who_ is _of polite society will give him the time of day. Keep in mind this will only septically affect Weaselbee, but it will have a ripple effect on his parents too for not raising him better. He will not be treated well by anyone in society. The Goblins might even shun him to an extent when he goes to Gringott's for behaving poorly. Weasel is still a Pureblood, even if he doesn't act like it, so he's been shown Pureblood treatment. If we take that from him, then he'll get to see what it's like to just be normal, have no one pay him any attention," Draco explained._

_"Oh, I think Ron would really, really hate that actually," Harry said, thinking._

_"Hmm. Ronald has never been the brightest. I think he wouldn't like not being noticed," Luna said in her sing-song voice. "He only has the attention of others to hold him in esteem, he's not done anything worthwhile or helpful. He's not particularly kind and he always calls me Loony. I think if he couldn't be seen, he might become a better person."_

_The curly haired witch thought about what Luna said for a moment, and then it dawned on her. Luna was right. The only reason Ron had passed most of his classes was because Hermione had helped him. He never studied on his own, and he was always around her or Harry. It was like he was garnering what attention he could by being Harry's friend, whereas Hermione was the exact opposite and wanted everyone to leave them both alone. It made sense; Ron had gone to the paper because he was_ jealous. _He was jealous of the attention Harry and now Hermione got. Hermione would do anything to be ignored, honestly, she would do anything to have her parent's back, but Ron wasn't thinking about the cause. He was thinking about the fact he didn't get to be seen._

_"Oh Luna, you are so clever!" Hermione grinned at her, and then she looked at Draco. "Okay, fine, how to oust him from society?"_

_Draco, Theo, and Blaise all grinned. "Oh, don't worry about that. We can handle it. You and Potter just keep doing what you're doing and ignore him. We will spread the word that he's excommunicated. We can't force his house to burn him from the tapestry, but we can and will let every Pureblood know that Ronald Weasley is no longer considered welcome in polite society for being malicious and trying to ruin the reputation of a perfectly fine witch and wizards. That's all it will take really and given where the rumors are going to be coming from, it will be considered gospel."_

_Hermione started to groan in protest, but then smiled when everyone looked at her. "You know what? No, I don't need to be directly involved. I'll owl Opa and tell him what's happened and what the plan is, but other than that you guys handle it. I'm tired of thinking of all the plans. You can do this for me?"_

_"Of course, Hermione. We've got this and it gets us all a little revenge," Theo needled. "You need rest and you have enough to worry about. Let us handle this." Hermione made a push away gesture with her hands, as if washing them clean of the situation. That was really all the answer they needed, and she could see their happiness that she trusted them._

_Hermione was glad of the decision they made that day, too. Ronald Weasley was no longer to be accepted into polite society, essentially making him persona-non-grata at events and things of the sort. He wouldn't be invited to a Yule Ball outside of any Hogwarts threw. He had been deemed to be untrustworthy and uncouth; willing to betray his friends and their secrets for a little attention. No one wanted to keep a person around them who could not be believed, or to keep secrets._

_It was later that same day that Professor Snape had come into the Room of Requirement to teach them Occlumency. Hermione hadn't necessarily been thinking of adding Harry into the mix until a little later on, but he had needed to learn, and with others there to distract, disasters were avoided. Hermione made a note to never leave Harry Potter and Severus Snape alone in the same room, though. Those two were like oil and water; their personalities were oppositional and likely to leave the room in shambles._

_Apparently, Draco was going to go first at every lesson. Snap would drill him, and then Draco would help teach others the beginning skills they would need to create their mental barriers. Snape assured them Draco could withstand both Dumbledore and his attempts to enter his mind, being something of a prodigy, he was well-suited to teach. Snape and Draco split the group down the center to help the witches and wizards figure out what best worked for them to use. Draco used a mental image of a large, ice covered lake in the dead of winter. He explained he chose this because it brought him a sense of calm and peace, because it could help him keep his emotions in check in case he had to hide something or was fearful for his life should his shields be broken._

_Articulate as ever, Snape had informed them he simply used darkness. The concept of darkness, a pitch black and hollow state of being. He further counseled the choice of mindscape really mattered to the mental barriers and the strength of them. Being unseasoned and new, they could of course attempt to use either what he used or what Draco used as a starting point, but it wouldn't work as well. The witch or wizard would have to create their own mindscape which would reflect their sense of self while providing defensive measures. It could be done over time, but he insisted any shield was better than no shield at all._

_It had been difficult and painful. It had given her a headache again, but not as bad as the first time. Thankfully their aloof instructor had brought along some Pepper-Up for them all, which was met with intense gratefulness. Luna had been the first to succeed in keeping her shields up, which she attributed to the wind sprites and Bec. Hermione wasn't sure if she had been alluding to Bec as in the goddess, or something else, but it was very Luna. By the end of the meeting all of them could at least maintain something to reflect the thoughts of the interloper back at them, and that would do for a cursory glance into their thoughts. Snape had left them with instructions to come up with their barriers and strengthen them over the coming week before taking his leave._

_All of that had been weeks' ago. They all had their own shields now, their own ways of categorizing their minds. Harry seemed to suffer the most, but he managed with lots of practice. Hermione mind, to the shock of no one, was a library. It was an expansive library with books upon books of decoy memories interspersed with real ones. Only Hermione knew where her proper thoughts were stored, and it worked incredibly well for her. They would still be doing lessons, but it became much easier now that they had the basics down. Essentially Draco and Snape drilled them until they found something important or their shields broke, and it took longer and longer each time._

Shaking herself out of the memory, Hermione looked at the letter in her hand. Her research had yielded fruit, but she had to be sure. She asked her Opa for his advice, and his advice was that the journal sounded like a Horcrux. Hermione had read about them, extensively, but she had never even seen the journal and she couldn't be positive. She had to find Snape, now. She had to find out what he knew and if he could help Ginny, because Ginny was in danger of losing herself to the madness of Dark magic, otherwise. She had to go, glad it was a weekend, and she could do as she pleased.

Hermione left the Room of Requirement without so much as a by your leave. She stood up, left, and nearly ran to the dungeons looking for Snape. She knocked on his office door to no avail. So she knocked harder, and waited. And waited. She knocked every five minutes for thirty minutes, until a very irritated professor opened the door.

She didn't wait for an invitation, she walked through the door and handed him the letter in silence. Snape eyed her worriedly, never having known her to stay silent for longer than a few minutes unless her nose was buried in a book. He took the parchment slowly and dropped his eyes to it. Hermione watched him as he read the missive, his eyes widening and showing the panic she was definitely feeling. Snape snapped his eyes to hers and asked one question, now knowing why she hadn't uttered a single word aloud. "You're sure?"

Hermione nodded, grabbed the letter, and tossed it into the fireplace. No evidence. None. No one else could know. This could change everything. After all, if he had one, he may have made more. Snape approved of her actions but didn't voice his approval. "Bring her down here, Miss Ollivander, and let me help her. She does not need those memories," Snape addressed.

He could see her shoulders fall in relief. She turned to look at him, appreciation clear in her eyes. Ginevra Weasley didn't deserve the nightmare of the Dark Lord in her head, and she had been living with it for far too long. "Thank you, Professor. I'll bring her down after dinner, if that's alright. That way I can get her to bed and she can just rest."

"That would be fine. She'll probably be tired, but she will feel much better over the next few days," Snape conceded.

"Do you think _he_ knows?"

"Miss Ollivander, I think if _either_ of them knew things would be very different," Snape enunciated. From the widening of her eyes, he could tell she had taken his meaning. Could one feel the death of a piece of their disembodied soul? Could one feel a piece of them dying if they were not, in fact, alive? There was simply no way to know, and it would not do to risk this information getting out to anyone.

"I need to go encode my notes. I need to go and handle a lot of things. Can you and I discuss this later, in a safer location?" the curly haired witch fretted. Her dour professor didn't tease, didn't mock, didn't do anything aside from nod his acceptance. At any other time, Hermione may have found it to be a bit of a miracle; right now, she just thanked him and told him she would see him later. She had too much damage control to manage. She had to encode those notes, get them away from possible prying eyes, and she had to get Ginny to agree to accompany her to the dungeons later that evening. She also might be in a bit of shock, but that could wait until later. She had chocolate in her room, since Parvati and Lavender couldn't go near her things anymore without shaking. Smirking at the memory, Hermione hurried on her way back to the Room of Requirement.

_Unwilling to spend every weekend on a counter-jinx for her lawless and prying roommates, Hermione had spent her first Saturday with McGonagall as promised to "create" one. Hermione had done most of the work on it already but found herself feeling rather vindictive throughout the week. She had never really_ liked _her roommates, but she didn't approve of them going through her things. Normally anything but cruel, she found herself unmoved by their particular quandary. Perhaps it was because the transgression was committed directly against her, but she didn't look too closely at it. She was going to help them, but not before they had permanent marks._

_Most of the morning had been spent with her Transfiguration professor in her offices. Hermione detailed the jinx over tea and biscuits, and between the two of them they had created a counter before lunch. She could tell Madam Pomfrey was cross with her for not allowing her to be the one to remove the jinx from them, but it was Hermione's jinx and McGonagall could do it silently. The matron pursed her lips, but the jinx was removed. Hermione was correct in there being permanent scarring. Madam Pomfrey adjusted their hairstyles to include bangs and had given them a paste to help with the redness and inflammation._

_When Hermione had gone back to the dorm that night after doing her reading in the Room of Requirement, she was pleased to find that Parvati and Lavender had left the room entirely and swapped with Ginny. Finally, a roommate she didn't despise. She smiled at her friend as she plopped down on her bed._

The Room of Requirement was as she had left it not an hour and a half ago. Hermione gathered all her notes on the Horcruxes and cast a concealment and confusion charm of her own invention on them. It would make the information seem garbled, or possibly look like another language, if anyone tried to read over her shoulder. She had been using this most of the year, since Ronald had tried to cheat off of her in Charms. She thought it appropriate that a Charm thwart his attempts at cheating. Just in case others attempted to look at her work, any attempts to reverse the charm would indicate she was writing song lyrics or her favorite sonnets instead of taking notes. She had Draco help her test it. With much frustration and three days' time with a sample parchment, Draco had eventually found his way through the charm. That was sufficient for Hermione. He knew how the spell had been assembled, too. It would be much harder without that knowledge to remove it, and not many would be able to figure it out.

Packing away the notes into her bag, Hermione relaxed infinitesimally. They couldn't be simply read now; they would have to have the charm reversed unless the person reading them was the person who had _written_ them. Hermione had taught Draco this one, but only with a strict vow that he wouldn't be telling anyone else its secrets. Hermione was planning to patent this and sell it already enchanted on parchment, so the studious never need worry about intellectual thievery.

"Everything alright, Mi?"

Draco's voiced pulled her out of the frenzy of her thoughts. "Yes, quite alright, thank you." She smiled up at him, but he didn't look like he believed her. She supposed she wouldn't have believed her. The only people who knew her better than Draco and Theo at this point were Ginny and Harry. She probably wasn't lying well enough, but there was nothing for it.

"If you say so," he hedged, not wanting to attract the attention of everyone else in the room. It had become common for Draco, Theo, Blaise, Lovegood, Potter, Hermione, and occasionally even Longbottom or the She Weasel to be hanging out in the room. They used it to study privately and to create their own spells more than they used it for Occlumency lessons and secret meetings, though those did take place every week. Longbottom and Red never came to those. Hermione didn't want to involve too many people, and she was right not to. Thankfully after a few, albeit awkward, meetings, Longbottom and Red had ceased behaving as if they were going to be attacked if in proximity to one of the Slytherin's. They had even begun to relax a little.

Shooting him wide eyes, she begged him silently to drop it. Draco narrowed his eyes at her but didn't comment on anything else. Hopefully, he could corner her about it later because she wasn't going to say a word at the moment. He gave her a tiny nod and she seemed to understand what he as saying, because she let out a quiet huff of air and nodded back. Eyes falling back to the book as if nothing had happened, Draco went back to his essay. Actually, he was only able to pay some attention to his essay because he could see her fidgeting where she sat. Whatever was bothering her must be big, because normally she could compartmentalize better than that. He had seen Hermione Granger-Ollivander delivered horrid news and remain calmer than she was right now.

Making up his mind, he hoisted his book off the table and went to sit next to her. He said nothing, rested his hand on top of hers, and offered her silent comfort. She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his, palm to palm, and let out a shaky breath. Draco sat with her, letting her compose herself while he studied. The witch sat next to him and stared off into space, periodically gripping his hand as a silent confirmation she was still in there. Yes, he would be demanding they talk about this later.

The whole group had been lounging away in the Room of Requirement as it was a Saturday. The Quidditch game was tomorrow, and they liked the quiet the room offered them. There was an area for Neville to nurture his plants, a space for Luna to be herself with a comfortable padded floor and gauzy curtains, a corner for Gryffindor's to lounge away and play exploding snap. The Room had really gone above and beyond to provide for them, expanding slowly upon the original requests. It had added a section for potions for Draco and Hermione to tinker, which pleased them immensely. Theo had an entire corner to himself where he messed with charms and arithmancy equations…and whatever Theo did. Honestly some of his ideas were a little off. Blaise mostly slept, it seemed, though he never fell behind in his studies and was always happy to be around. Potter was in and out, but he was always friendly with everyone. He studied mostly at night and had the room to himself aside from Hermione. It was a strange group, but they worked well together and had slowly found a way to coexist.

This is what Hermione wanted for the whole school, peaceful coexistence. Of course, personalities would clash. It was inevitable to have fights if you got a bunch of teenagers into a confined space, but not like it was currently. No more hexing and dueling in the corridors. Not more scathing remarks based on house affiliation. Without them even seeing it, she had done this for them, and this is what she wanted the whole school to be like when she was finished it. It was a worthy goal, to be sure.

Squeezing his hand and letting go, Hermione turned to address Draco quietly. "I have to go and speak with Ginny right now. I want to spend some time with her privately to explain some things. Can you please meet us in Professor Snape's office tonight after dinner? I can fill you in then, and he might need your help anyway."

"Of course, Mi. I'll be there. If you need anything just write me, alright?" Draco affirmed. He had not seen this witch so nervous since she had returned, and that filled him with dread.

"Thank you, I will." Patting his leg, she clambered out of the cozy couch spot and bid goodbye to the others, intent on finding her friend and breaking the news to her as softly as possible. The trouble was Hermione could not comprehend how anyone could tell another person they had been possessed by a soul sucking maniacal maniac softly. She was going to have to figure it out, she supposed.

Hermione found Ginny in the common room reading a trashy romance novel of hers. Sitting next to her, she waited for the redhead to pause and look at her. As soon as Ginny saw her friends face, she paled slightly.

Grabbing her hand, Hermione pulled Ginny up the stairs to the room they now shared completely alone. She warded it to within an inch of its life to repel eavesdropping spells and to silence the room, as well as bar everyone else from entry. No one had willingly entered their dorms since the jinxing incident as far as Hermione was aware, but she simply would not risk this. She turned to find Ginny already sitting on her bed, waiting.

"What it is, Mi?"

"I found it. I know what the diary was, and I know why you've been having so much trouble, and I know how to fix it."

"What was it? How do I make it stop?"

"I've decided I'm not going to tell you what it was exactly," Hermione evaded, "but Professor Snape is going to remove the memory of it. Entirely and completely. It's the only way to break you free of it, Ginny."

Ginny started to cry, softly. She had known it was something horrid. She had every inclination that she wouldn't be rid of it easily, but to have it confirmed. Knowing she'd been invaded by something Dark, something evil and foul? She had only been a child at the time. Her best friend crossed the room from the door and hugged her fiercely. "I promise, Ginny, this will make it stop," Hermione vowed.

"I don't question that, Mi. I don't doubt you've done all the research you can do and this is the best solution," Ginny's tears started to fall faster. "That's not exactly what I'm crying about though. I knew it was foul. I knew it was poisoning me slowly. I'm glad you've found a way for me to be rid of it."

"Then why are you crying, Gin?"

"Snape is going to go through my memories. What if he removes the one, I have of Harry saving me?" Ginny pleaded. "What if I don't remember him saving me, Mi?" She felt the arms around her tighten.

"If you don't want to lose that, we will talk to Professor Snape about it. He really is the best for this. I would do it but I think I would just hurt you on accident. If he can leave it, if it means so much to you, he will. He's not a monster like everyone thinks, Ginny. He's…he's had a hard life but he's not a bad man. Okay? Do you trust me?"

Ginny continued to cry but nodded. "Okay. Then we are going to see him tonight after dinner. Draco and I will be there for support. After he is done, I'm going to bring you back here, and you're going to sleep until you feel better. Alight? And I will be here when you wake, and we'll see how you feel. I'll be here the whole time."

"Thank you, Mi. Thank you for trying, and caring. Snape scares me, but not because he's ever been foul to me. I'm just scared of losing my memories more than I already have."

"I know, Gin. I'm sure he will understand that and do whatever he can to help. You should have never been exposed to something so foul, and he echoed the same sentiment when I told him everything."

"I'm glad I have someone to help me. I asked Mum to get me to a Mind Healer or something, anything to make this stop. I haven't been able to sleep through the night without the Dreamless Sleep since it happened."

"With any luck, you'll be doing exactly that tonight."

They stayed like that until it was time for dinner and then went down together. Hermione urged some food into Ginny, understanding her unwillingness to put anything in her stomach. Deciding it would be best if she were at her full strength, Hermione ate a good meal and then escorted Ginny to the dungeons to meet with Professor Snape. She was glad she had thought to ask Draco to join them because Ginny was shaking like a leaf and required a lot of support. Hermione doubted she would be able to get her back to the common room by herself, but that was a problem for after her friend was feeling better. Right now, Hermione had to concentrate on keeping her calm enough to be fixed.

Finally reaching their destination of Snape's office in the dungeons presented an extremely nervous Ginny and a suitably ruffled Hermione. Draco stood outside his office, much as he had the last time, she'd met him down here before the Occlumency lessons started. He must have been watching them in the Great Hall to have beaten them here.

"You okay there, Red?" Draco inquired. His brow was furrowed, and his face was taught. Hermione knew that meant he was concerned.

"'M okay, Malfoy. Just nervous," Ginny croaked. She hadn't even bothered to look up at him when he spoke.

"Professor Snape should be here soon, he followed me out of dinner," Draco supplied trying to ease the situation. Red looked nauseous. _Wait, when did I pick up Blaise's stupid nickname for her?_

"Thanks," Ginny tugged at her fingers and shuffled her feet. Hermione and Draco made eye contact but knew better than to attempt discussing anything in a hallway. Hogwarts had eyes and ears everywhere, after all. However, all three parties' attention was drawn when they heard the approach of heavy feet, thudding along the hallway towards Snape's office.

Hermione groaned when she saw the approach of Ronald Bilius Weasley. Now was certainly not the time to have to deal with his nonsense. He had mostly been quiet since he had been excommunicated, but _of course_ he would decide to show his splotchy red face now. He was worked up over something, she could tell just by looking at his body language and facial expression he wanted to fight.

Without having to say anything, Draco stepped up next to Hermione and guided Ginny behind him. He didn't know the whole of what was going on, but there was no way he would allow the further torment of an already miserable witch. It just wasn't done. His father had taught him next to nothing useful when it came to treating people well, but his mother had taught him all he needed to know. You did not distress and already addled witch. It was not done. They would hex first and ask questions later. Draco had no doubt both witches with him were somewhat addled, so he was going to have to handle this lest they all get detention or end up with Weasel blood on their hands.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY SISTER, MALFOY!" Ron bellowed down the hallway.

Draco heard Hermione sigh, but she didn't say anything. Ginny had remained similarly quiet, so he didn't rush to answer him. He felt the erection of a _protego_ rise over them, and he knew it must have been Hermione preempting Ron's history of dueling when angry.

"My presence was requested, Weasley," Draco insisted. He didn't move, he didn't fidget, he didn't break eye contact. He simply waited for the response.

"Who would ever request you, it would not be my sister _Malfoy_ ," sneered Ron. Draco still did not respond, though he did note with approval that Hermione hadn't given in and spoken with him. She hadn't spoken with Ronald Weasley since the night she told him off in the Gryffindor common room, and that so happened to please him immensely.

"I didn't say it was your sister, I said I was asked to be here. You were not however, so please leave." Draco replied firmly.

"Fuck off Malfoy! Move so I can get my sister!" Next to him, Hermione huffed in annoyance. She really hoped Snape showed up sooner rather than later. Ron looked at her menacingly, and she narrowed her eyes at him in retort. He could _try_ to hex her, but he would lose. Ronald didn't have an ounce of mental protection. He was broadcasting his thoughts and feelings loud enough for even the most novice legilimens to hear.

Disgusted by his thought process, Draco cast a _disillusionment_ charm over both Hermione and Ginevra. Ronald Weasley was truly, really, disgusting. The thoughts and images he was projecting regarding Hermione made Draco want to hex his bollocks off _. He didn't think she was anything more than a piece of meat. He thought she was his free ride, and he was mad she refused to help him. He blamed Mi for Harry's abandonment, believing that she had somehow made everyone turn away from him. He thought she was pretty and he thought he would get to fuck her one day and that was the only reason he was kind to her. His Mum had promised he'd get to marry Hermione and keep her forever. How dare she do this to him? How fucking dare she?_

Raising his wand at Draco, Ron began to mutter something under his breath. Hermione's eyes widened when she recognized some of the syllables. She recognized that spell from one of the books she had read recently. _Lentum Mortis_ was an atrocious spell to use, and when Hermione had found it she discovered the source for the magic-stealing rumors. They weren't rumors at all. You _could_ steal magic, but it would kill whoever you stole it from, and turn you into a monster in the process.

She cast a quick _confundus_ and pulled Draco away from the fool. He would be expelled for this. He may even lose his wand. How dare he try to steal another's magic? He had tried to kill Draco! IN FRONT OF WITNESSES! Ginny would have never remained quiet on that front, never! Hermione reached out to feel for Ginny along the wall and grabbed her hand tightly. She pulled both Draco and Ginny along with her, further from Ron while he was confused and unable to cast spells reliably.

"How did you get over there? Come back here! I'm not finished with you Malfoy!" Ron screamed at them.

"Expelliramus! What do you think you are you doing Mr. Weasley?" Professor Snape asked. He had finally arrived, flanked by none other than Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson.

"I'm trying to get my sister away from Malfoy, sir. There's no way she would be down here of her own volition with him," Ron appealed. Thankfully, Hermione knew it would not work. Snape was a master at legilimancy. He could see straight through everything he was thinking right now, and he was thinking _loudly._

"I think it's best you come with me, Mr. Weasley," Professor Snape demanded. "Miss Greengrass, Miss Parkinson, will you two please stay with Miss Weasley in my office until we return? Mr. Malfoy, Miss Ollivander, please come with me, as well."

Hermione canceled the _disillusionment_ charm and looked at Daphne and Pansy questioningly. Pansy quirked and eyebrow at her, but her thoughts were placid, kind, nothing malicious. Daphne gave her a small nod and a smile. "Please take care of Ginny for me," Hermione said to them sincerely. She canceled the charm on her friend.

"We got it, Ollivander," Parkinson said seriously. Hermione nodded her thanks and followed Professor Snape, Draco Malfoy, and Ronald _sodding_ Weasley to what she assumed would be the Headmaster's office.

This was not how she wanted to end her night. Wait, as a matter of fact, it would _not_ be how her night was ending. She still had to come back down here to retrieve Ginny and inform Draco what was going on. And had Greengrass and Parkinson gone for Snape? Did they witness what had happened? Fuck, she needed to shield harder. Dumbledore could read her thoughts if she weren't careful. She grabbed Draco's hand, anchoring her while she reinforced her shields, hoping it would be enough to keep Dumbledore invading her thoughts and memories.

Her companion seemed to know what she was doing, because it almost felt like he was knocking on her shields. She cocked her head at him, looking to make sure it was him. He turned and smirked at her. She hadn't known he could read her mind via touch if he wanted to, though that certainly came in handy. Hermione opened the door ever so slightly, and she felt a chilled wind sweep through the library in her mind. Hermione squeezed Draco's hand and thought 'thank you' so he could hear her. He had helped to reinforce her shields. It wasn't permanent, but it would help to get her through this meeting. The blond wizard nodded and squeezed her hand back in reassurance. Hermione blocked everything back off and locked her library up tight. Dumbledore was not allowed.

They were already at the gargoyle, it stood looming in front of them for about a millisecond before it jumped to the side, allowing them entry. Hermione hadn't heard a password, but it was possible this was considered an emergency and Snape was allowed to simply enter. Hermione had read in _Hogwarts: A History_ the castle was sentient and would often choose to do things to help or hinder those it deemed worthy of it. Hermione only hoped she could be worthy of its help, because right now she was terrified Dumbledore was going to side with Ron and he would target Draco again, or he could target her.

Riding the stairs to the office door Professor Snape knocked quickly and harshly. Ron had been shockingly quiet the entire time, but he had also been forced to walk in front of Professor Snape and the other two students. He may have been quiet because he was without his wand, or he saw the futility of trying to fight Professor Snape. Regardless, it made Hermione wary. She squeezed and let go of Draco's hand, resting it on her wand in case it was necessary to stun the oaf. Draco looked at her with a raised eyebrow but didn't question her lack of trust that things would go smoothly. Weaslebee was a pain in the arse, and she would know better than most how trustworthy he was.

The office door opened, and they followed behind their Professor, who directed Weasely to a chair. Hermione and Draco spread out in the room, so they didn't make easy targets in case he decided to fight the Muggle way. "Is this really necessary, Professor Snape? I was only worried for my sister."

"We will wait for Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley," Snape said dully. He didn't want to talk to the idiot, and he didn't want to explain things more than once. Snape didn't seem to be on high alert, but then, he never did.

"Severus! My boy, what have we here?" Headmaster Dumbledore sauntered into his own office shortly, wearing silver robes with blue stars on them.

"Mr. Weasley was caught attacking students and using Dark magic, Headmaster. It is my recommendation that he be expelled," Snape grit out.

"What! I DID NOT!" Ronald stood, trying to protest what had been seen.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, you did in fact. One of the Darkest bits of magic that exists, and it would have killed your intended target," Snape hissed at him. He pulled Ron's wand from his pockets and cast _prior incantanto_ to reveal the last spell to leave Ronald's wand.

"That doesn't mean I cast it!" Ron begged.

"That is why I have brought a witness with me, Mr. Weasley," Snape sneered at him.

"You have a witness for this Severus? This is most dire. I'm not even sure how Mr. Weasley knew this spell," the Headmaster pondered. "It's really ancient, and there are no books about it here."

For a moment, one fleeting moment, Hermione almost panicked. She almost slipped up and gave the impression she knew what the spell did, but that was not why Snape had brought her. She was simply here as a witness to the spell being cast by Ronald, and that was all she needed to attest to. She didn't have to admit she knew what it did. She didn't have to do anything of the sort, and she would not be offering that information.

"I have two, Headmaster, and they are in this room," Snape drawled.

"Right, Miss Ollivander, Mr. Malfoy, would you allow myself or Severus to extract the memory of the incident that just occurred?"

"Professor Snape may," they both said simultaneously, casting wry smiles and each other.

"Of course, of course. Then, please Severus. I will keep an eye on Mr. Weasley," the Headmaster assured them. Hermione noticed he was missing his signature twinkle, surmising it had something to do with the fact Ronald was nothing like the useful wizard he had presumed to foster with Harry Potter. Hermione didn't feel sorry for the meddlesome man.

Snape was working with Draco to get an accurate representation of the memory and had it within in moments. Side effect to practicing Occlumency – you had near perfect recall if you wished. Hermione already had that skill, so it translated very well into her memories. Snape let the memory fall into the Pensieve that the Headmaster kept in his office. Severus allowed the Headmaster to go into the memory first, and he emerged looking rather grim, indeed.

"Miss Ollivander, if you please?"

Hermione nodded and listened to Snape coaching her through how to bring the memory to the forefront of her mind, though he needn't do so. It was mostly for the benefit of the Headmaster and Ronald. They were not aware of the work Hermione and Draco had been doing with their dour Potions Professor, and it would remain so.

The process was repeated, and Dumbledore's expression darkened as he looked at the youngest Weasley son. "Do you have any idea what that spell does? Where did you even find it?!"

Weasley blanched at the tone directed at him from the Headmaster. He had never been spoken to this way and he really did not like it. "It was in the family library…"

"The Weasley family library really has such Dark magical texts as this, Ronald Weasley!?"

"Don't all families, sir?" Ronald asked, sufficiently cowed. He was beginning to look worried now, unsure of his place in this situation.

"No, Mr. Weasley. No, they do not." Headmaster Dumbledore released a heavy breath. "Severus please return their memories. I am afraid I will have to call the lad's parents in, as well as Minerva. I can't expel the boy without her say so."

The Potions professor nodded tersely and pulled two vials on memories out of his robe pockets. "You can either drink them or leave them as they are. If you leave them out, or unfulfilled as such, then they are easier to tamper with."

The two students downed the memories immediately and handed empty vials back to Snape. "Thank you, Professor, for the rescue," Hermione said politely. The man only nodded at her, but it was good enough for her.

"We will be taking our leave, Albus," Professor Snape reported. "I suggest you keep that boy away from his wand and feed him this after we leave."

Hermione and Draco were already moving toward the door. They wanted out of that office. They wanted not to look at Ronald Weasley again. They wanted to go to Snape's office where things could be clearly and wholly discussed. They didn't bother listening to the last of what the Headmaster and Professor Snape were talking about. They didn't care. As soon as they were through the office door and at the bottom of the staircase, Draco held his hand out to Hermione. She took it immediately and squeezed. "He tried to kill you, Draco," she whined.

"Lucky you have my back, Mi," Draco tugged her into his side, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. That was how Professor Snape found them when he finally descended from the Headmaster's office. He didn't say anything, surprisingly. Perhaps he saw in them what he had once desired with Lily, but for once he kept just sarcasm and bitterness to himself.

"Let's head back downstairs and take care of Miss Weasley. Then we three will talk a little more at length about this. If they do not expel him, we will need to be prepared for this to happen again," Professor Snape addressed them almost kindly. The students nodded their understanding to him and followed behind at a more sedate pace. Hermione didn't let go of Draco's hand, and he didn't ask her to.

When they reached the professor's office, Hermione was shocked by the sight that greeted them. Daphne, Pansy, and Ginny were all sitting in front of the fire and having tea. Tea. She shook her head, but no, that's what she was seeing.

"So pleased you have made yourself at home, ladies," Professor Snap bit out.

"You were gone a while, so I had Mipsy bring us tea," Daphne said drily, but with a smile.

"Thank you for staying with me. You two have been great company," Ginny said sweetly.

"Don't mention it, Red. Your watchdog over there would have maimed us had we not," Pansy chuckled.

Hermione thought about being upset, but then laughed too, because she was right. "I wouldn't say _maim,_ perse...""

Daphne and Pansy took their leave and left the four of them staring at one another unsure how to proceed. "Is my brother dead?" Ginny asked.

"Not dead, might be expelled though," Hermione sighed.

"I'm sorry, I froze," Ginny said stonily.

"You've had a rough year. I can forgive you," Draco smiled at her. Ginny huffed a laugh.

"They gave me a calming draught, a mild one. I didn't think it would cause problems. Is that alright, Professor Snape?"

"That will actually probably be helpful, Miss Weasley," Snape drawled.

"Thank you for doing this. Could I make a request though?" Ginny hedged.

Hermione knew that Snape would do whatever he could to save as much of her memory as possible, so Hermione tugged Draco over to some chairs and took a seat. Finally, free of Ron, she could breathe. She could let Ginny discuss this with Professor Snape herself because she was more relaxed than Hermione was. She could sit there and freak out a little bit because ironically, she felt safe in this space.

"Do you want to tell me what is going on?" Draco questioned quietly. Hermione had not let his hand go since they had left Dumbledore's office. She'd barely spoken a word, and she was pale.

"Let's wait until we get Ginny sorted. I do not want her awake to hear this, alright?" Hermione whispered. Her companion nodded, knowing with what had happened with Weaselbee, Mi was already on edge.

When next Hermione looked up, Snape was sitting next to Ginny with his wand trained on her, concentrating on his task. "Go, help Professor Snape in case he needs it. I think I'm going to give Ginny a sleeping draught afterward, and then I can clue you in," Hermione nudged him.

Draco gave her a look like he didn't believe her. "If you're sure…" The curly-haired witch smiled at him, "I'm really okay. I'm upset and I'm tired, but I'm okay. Go and help stabilize him."

Draco nodded at her, accepting that she was alright and in the here and now. She watched him sit next to his Godfather and offer his assistance. Professor Snape had Draco put his hand on his shoulder, and the other on Ginny's head to help with magic depletion. Hermione could see the threads and colors weaving together as they worked together. She got up from the couch and wandered to the potions cabinet. She grabbed two vials of Pepper-Up, and one of Sleeping Draught. By the time she was done, so were they.

She handed the potions out to Draco and Professor Snape. "Gin, remember like I told you earlier, you're going to sleep okay? Here's a sleeping draught. Do you think you need it?" Hermione asked her friend.

"Thanks, Mi. I may not but I would rather get a good night's sleep regardless," Ginny took the potion and laid down on the couch. Hermione had meant for her to wait and take it back in the dorm, but she supposed she could levitate her later, or have Dotty take her and stay with her. Actually, that sounded like a much better plan.

"Dotty!"

"Yes, Miss?"

"Can you please take Ginny to our dorm and stay with her? I'll be back in a little while."

"Of course, Miss," Dotty eyed her, and then produced a new tea service for the three of them.

"Thank you, dear heart," Hermione smiled. Dotty smiled, and then she blinked out of existence with Ginny. Hermione dropped into the couch with a huff. "What do you want to talk about first, and can I have a Pepper-Up please?"

Snape smirked at her and wandlessly summoned one to his hand, which he then handed her. After she downed it with thanks, he replied. "Well, let's talk about the most recent event first. Hermione, I know you recognized that spell, and thank you for saving my godson, here."

"He's grown on me," she grinned.

"Indeed," Snape replied. "Draco, did you catch what the spell was when you go through your memory?"

The blond wizard nodded, "I think the incantation was "slow death." If it's what I think it was, he would have killed me, right?"

"He would have slowly drained the magic from your magical core, and sort of used you as a battery until you died," Mi touched his hand in comfort. "It doesn't last forever, but he could have harnessed your magical core for himself, expended it, killed you, and then used that extra power to bring down everyone in that hallway."

"Salazar," Draco gasped. "Why does he even know about that?"

"Well, I found it in old books. If I found it, I guess he technically could have too. What I'm more worried about is what's going to happen if he isn't expelled. Professor, that's really Dark magic. I don't believe he didn't know what it did, and I certainly don't believe it was an accident on who he was targeting."

"Nor do I, Hermione. Unfortunately for Albus, Minerva will not take kindly to leniency in this regard. She's always been fair and just. Ronald Weasley will not be a student here much longer, I'm fairly certain."

"Will there be a trial? Will he have to talk to Aurors?" Draco queried. Just because Ron got kicked out of Hogwarts didn't mean he wouldn't be in the magical world. If he could still find them in several years' time, then he could exact his revenge. No, Draco would much rather the wizard was detained or removed from Wizarding Britain altogether.

"I'll have it taken care of, alright. I don't want either one of you worrying outside of the next few days. Once he's officially expelled, I can handle about anything else. All I have to do is mention to Lucius you were attacked, and he'll be up on charges. He's an arsehole, but your father does have his uses from time to time," Snape commented.

"If there's anyone I trust to handle my affairs, it would be you," Draco smiled at his Godfather then. If not for Severus Snape, Draco would have never seen the error of his ways. It was his Godfather who beat him about the head with a rolled-up edition of the Daily Prophet until he finally understood what he felt for Hermione Granger wasn't hatred, at all.

The comment catching him off guard, Severus Snape let loose a genuine smile for the first time in years. "You're most welcome, son."

Hermione looked between the two of them and chose not to comment on the smile or the tender moment. Sticking to business would be best. If there was anything, she had learned about spending time with Slytherin's, it was when they show you anything personal you kept it to yourself and kept the secret. You may not be included, but you were trusted enough for them to let their guard down, so you better not ruin it. "If anyone can ensure Ronald Weasley isn't let loose upon the world to become a New Dark Lord, I think you are a good choice to temper the storm."

"The other reason we are here, Draco, is because I figured out what that fucking diary was, and why it haunted Ginny for so long," Hermione changed the subject.

"Shite. Okay, tell me." And Hermione did. She told them everything about the Horcrux that had almost killed Ginny and her best friend. She told them about how she thought there was a possibility there might be more, because why would Voldemort split his soul only the once. There had been rumors of his return ever since Harry came back to the Wizarding World. They talked until the Pepper-Up wore off. They talked about possibilities. They talked about the best way forward. They talked about all of Hermione's plans that night, the three of them. They talked and theorized and they came up with many answers, but a lot more questions. Hermione had fallen asleep on the couch, leaning against Draco's shoulder.

"Dotty?" Draco called for the elf, hoping she would answer. To his surprise, she did.

"Mr. Malfoy?" she answered in a hushed voice.

"Can you please put your Mistress to bed? She seems to be a bit knackered," Draco smiled at the elf tiredly. Dotty nodded at him, and patted his hand before saying, "You're a good boy, Draco Malfoy."

Then she disappeared with her lady, and he was sent off to bed by Snape too. What a fucking week, indeed.


	18. The Aftermath

_Opa, December 12 th _

_I hope you are doing well. There has been so much happening here at school, and I am sorely missing Herrenhaus and your company. I miss Dotty and our morning routine so very much. I know I’ve only been a part of your life for a very short time, but I am so very happy to have you in mine._

_Where to begin? Let’s see, I suppose we will start with the gravest of things. Ginny has been feeling much better lately. Professor Snape took wonderful care of her, and she’s been able to sleep through the night since. She still stays with me in the fourth-year dorm, but I really prefer her company to the thieves who were in here with me before. I never did find out what they were searching for, or why. I suppose I need to tie up that loose end soon. Anyway, Ginny has seemed more herself over the past few days and it is lovely to see again. She’s far less erratic and angry, and she’s eating better. Thank you for steering me in the correct direction, otherwise I fear what her fate may have been._

_The very same night Ginny was taken care of, we were attacked by none other than Ronald Weasley. He had apparently followed us down to the dungeons when he saw us leave at dinner. He was not exactly stable, Opa. It pains me to say that my former friend is not as good a person as I had once thought him to be. You know I have been working diligently to use mind magics better? Well, the thoughts he was projecting, they are enough to make me fear being alone with him honestly. He kept thinking about how I should have been his, how his mother was going to force me to marry him. Draco was so offended on my behalf he disillusioned both Ginny and I and sought to distract Ronald. The distraction eventually turned into casting of course because Ron’s not able to control his temper. This is the part that worries me most, though. Ronald cast the “slow death’ spell at Draco. I recognized it quickly enough to interfere and confound Ron first before he could finish, but I’m not sure the shield charm would have held up against that. I am disgusted at his behavior, and I find myself extremely worried about where he may have learned such a spell. I know where I came across it, but I was also researching things that I ought not to be. I didn’t think anything like that was even in possession of the Weasley’s. I’m worried, Opa,. There is something I am not seeing and I’m not sure how to deal with this going forward. I found out just this morning that he has not been expelled, but he has been suspended for a week and sent home. When he returns, his wand will be held in possession of the teacher and only returned during class, but I am still uncomfortable with his presence. He tried to kill a student! The only reason he didn’t succeed is because I was faster and got lucky. Any advice which you could offer would be greatly appreciated and taken to heart. This was not the last incident from the wizard though, he also tried to attack Ginny during the first task of the tournament. I think there is something severely wrong with him and Dumbledore isn’t doing anything about it. I don’t wish to ask, but I am going to; do you think you could look into getting him removed from school? He’s dangerous, Opa, and Dumbledore refuses to see reason. The fact he cast that spell at all should have been grounds for expulsion._

_Outside of these things, my studies are going well. I do find myself to be extremely bored in my classes though. I guess I don’t find much of a challenge in the class exercises. Is this possibly due to having to work wandlessly so often when I was studying wandlore? I have noticed a definite increase in my ability in potions as well. Professor Snape commented on it, finding it astounding I could find and pair ingredients with one another without causing an explosion. I was offended at first, but honestly, I didn’t even work off of the instructions the rest of the class did. I brew mostly on instinct now, though he is making me brew two potions per class. One is my experiment, and the other is the class assignment. At least Potions has been challenging in that respect. I know I have impressed him when the man stays silent. He is not one to praise a student, but if my work is not faulty in his eyes, then that’s a rather high compliment. The man still rips my essays to shreds, though…_

_Please write back when you have some time, Opa. I miss you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you over break. Oh! Speaking of break, do you think I could invite a few friends over to celebrate? And can we please spend some time shopping for gifts, I really have not had any time!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Finishing her letter with a flourish, she set out to find an owl to send it out before breakfast. Though Professor Snape seemed nearly certain Ron would be expelled, he was not. Hermione was more displeased with the special treatment than she really thought possible, but there was little to be done for it at this point. From what she could infer from Professor McGonagall’s actions and speech patterns, she was also displeased. Ron had not attempted to talk to her, Harry, or Draco. He was bothering Ginny, though, and the twins had been seen ignoring him often. They didn’t speak with him in the Great Hall or the common room, anyway, not that Hermione had seen. This only suited to concern her more, because if he was being ignored by his siblings there had to be more going on than she had seen originally.

Professor Snape had not shot down her theory that Molly was involved in something more disquieting than trying to force a marriage on her, which did nothing to soothe her nerves at all. Of course, she would not be able to relax until Ronald Weasley was out of the picture entirely, and she doubted that would be any time soon. Not unless he did something else incredibly stupid, but that would be difficult given he didn’t have his wand. McGonagall had also removed him from the Gryffindor tower, stating he wasn’t fit to be around others, and he needed more direct supervision. Hermione supposed the only reason Ronald was still at Hogwarts had everything to do with Dumbledore, though what purpose the youngest Weasley son served was beyond her. At this point he wasn’t welcome by anyone in the school. He had become the school pariah, and was only spoken to when absolutely necessary. It wasn’t exactly Azkaban, but somehow Hermione just knew Ronald would be complaining as if it were.

Draco had been very attentive to her lately. He would often walk her to and from class to “be sure she arrived safely,” but Hermione was aware this was a way for a Pure-blood to test the waters. To flirt. She wasn’t comfortable with dating him, but she wasn’t comfortable with dating anyone right now. She knew he was also trying to keep her safe. She had noticed that there always seemed to be Slytherin’s around her now, whether they were speaking to her or not. _I guess Professor Snape made good on that “friend of Slytherin” thing,”_ she thought to herself. She wasn’t unhappy about the development in any way, more like she wasn’t sure how to react to it. She supposed she didn’t actually need to react insofar as just be herself, which was the route she had currently chosen.

The previous few weeks had seen to make a wonderful budding friendship between Luna, Ginny, Daphne, and Pansy though. It was really nice to have girlfriends for a change; girls she could spend time with without censoring her every single word and who actually gave a damn. It was something she didn’t believe she would have ever had at Hogwarts. She’d stopped thinking about attaining such connections when she had been stuck in a room with Parvati and Lavender, but things were different now, and she was quite glad of the extra room. More than once they had sleepovers, with Dotty and Mipsy happily providing drinks and treats for their early morning conversations and pampering sessions. At first, Hermione thought it was strange and she was hesitant to create the friendships, but now she had them, and nothing would take them from her. They were as precious to her as all others.

**First Task**

_The stands were full of students, professors, parents, and the media bundled up against the cold and sitting closely to one another. All of those watching the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament were in stands circling a large, deep, rocky landmass. The roaring of dragons could be heard, and flames could be seen, but no one had come out of the tent just yet. Hermione sat next to Ginny and Harry, and the three of them were surrounded with Neville, Luna, Draco, Blaise, Theo, Daphne, Pansy, Gregory Goyle, Adrian Pucey, Terry Boot, and some other upper classmen she didn’t know. It was rather odd to be three Gryffindors in a ring of snakes, but she knew these snakes were friendly and she was happy to be there. She was even happier when they had created a barrier between them and Ronald._

_Passing the time with conversation about the dragon situated below them, the group barely noticed his approach. It was rather strange when out of nowhere appeared a group of people to keep Ron away from them, though greatly appreciated. He did not have access to his wand outside of classes, and the whole school knew it, but it was as if there was an unspoken rule to keep Ron away from the three of them and Draco. Hermione did not like Draco being anywhere near him since he’d already been a target once. In fact, Hermione liked it so little she’d told the wizard he wasn’t to go anywhere alone unless he was in the dorms. He had smirked at her for that but didn’t argue with the concern she expressed. He had seemed a bit smug about it, but she had not cared if the prat followed her directives. She needed them all safe._

_Shockingly, Lucius had not given Draco grief for associating with Hermione, even though she was a close friend of Harry’s. Hermione had every suspicion this fact would later be exploited when Voldemort returned, but for now, it worked in their favor and she would take what she could get. The article the Daily Prophet had put out had ruined every chance of keeping their friendships secret from their parents, so adjustments would need to be made, as necessary. It was rather convenient, being able to just be friendly in public without her friends needing to worry about retribution from their families. It had also been proven rather fortuitous to have friends in Slytherin house._

_The egg was snatched, and the crowd erupted into cheers when the champion managed to get away with just a little singed hair. Hermione clapped along with the rest of the crowd. The voices around the arena were cacophonous, so no one had noticed when Ronald Weasley lunged through the groups of students towards his little sister. No one, of course, save Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. By the time Hermione had noticed something was amiss, she turned to find Ronald being levitated in tandem by both boys toward Professors Snape and McGonagall. Hermione stood immediately and went to speak with the Professors, demanding he be sent to the hospital wing for a thorough check up. There was something wrong with the wizard, to try and attack his own sister. Hermione had also decided to speak to her Grandfather about the incident, hopeful that he could perhaps sway the Board of Governors to have him removed from the school. He was safety risk to more than one student._

When Hermione wasn’t spending time with her friends or in classes, she worked tirelessly to perfect her wandless magic. She had to, so she could enchant each and every wand she came across to be incapable of casting the Unforgivables. She had found some old wands in the Room of Requirement and she was using those to practice on. She had figured out how to make the wands into a triggered portkey, though it was a tricky bit of magic. She was finding she had to tie the trigger of the relocation of the caster to the intent and goal of the spell being cast. For example, she wouldn’t want someone who was casting _Imperio_ to be relocated to Azkaban if they were casting the spell to teach others how to resist it, or to keep a student from jumping off the Astronomy Tower. This is where intent came into play, and it was a nuanced application. It was very difficult to do wandlessly, and this had been the only thing she had perfected thus far. She knew she would need to get better, faster at casting her enchantments, and the only way to do that was to practice it over and over and over until she could do it in her sleep. Unfortunately, this also meant Hermione didn’t get much sleep at all.

Regardless of how hard she worked, there always seemed to be more she had to do. She was currently trying to work out the intent trigger for _Crucio_ , and it was driving her mad. She needed to not just tie the intent to the portkey trigger, but the words, and the feeling of the spell to ensure it could not be worked around. It was hard to understand how to guard against the spell being used when she had never herself used or experienced the spell, and she was hitting a wall. She might need to give it a rest until she could discuss this with her Opa over the break. She was tired, and there was so much going on she wasn’t sure what day it was most of the time.

“Hermione? Are you still in here working?”

“Oh, hey Draco. Yeah, I’m a bit stuck on this and it’s driving me spare.”

“Mi, have you eaten today?”

“Hmm? No, I don’t think so.”

“Witch! It is nearly time for dinner! It is no wonder you aren’t able to think clearly! You do realize food is important, correct? Am I going to have to trail you everywhere to make sure you don’t pass out from exhaustion? Honestly!”

Hermione looked at him sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s just when I get into something I forget about time and food and sleep. My focus is pretty singular, and this is where it’s been all day.”

Draco rolled his eyes at the witch and held his hand out to her. “Come. We are going to dinner, and then you are going to go to bed. You’ll have better luck tomorrow. Even Merlin had to sleep woman.”

Hermione huffed out a little laugh and let him pull her into a standing position. “Thank you for looking out for me, even if it makes you a prat.”

“It’s what we do in Slytherin,” Draco shrugged and took her to the Great Hall, where she actually took his advice. Ginny, apparently, had sent the blond to retrieve her from the Room of Requirement. She had also managed to snag a letter from Hermione’s grandfather for her before the owl escaped to rest. It was fortunate, as Hermione was in desperate need of good news.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_December 16th_

_I must say I am rather worried about the state of affairs the Weasley boy seems to be in. Do you think it’s possible he could somehow be at the mercy of his mother? There have been many insidious deeds done by a family to procure good matches for their children, and I worry this might be the case. He seems to be unstable and he isn’t fit to be around other students in such a state. I fear for you, though I am sure you are being diligent in protecting yourself. I am also sure you have a set of bodyguards wherever you go, whether you realize it or not. Misters Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini seem to be pleased to have you around, and I wouldn’t be shocked if they’re making sure your back is always covered. It’s something my former house would do, and I do not doubt they are doing it now. It is likely why Miss Parkinson and Miss Greengrass discovered you so quickly that night, and I am very thankful for it._

_I am pleased Miss Weasley has been fairing better. The fact she was subjected to such a thing at such a young age is unconscionable. It’s impressive she remains as whole as she is now, and it speaks to a greater willpower than most witches or wizards will ever possess. She is a wonderful companion for you, Granddaughter, and I am please you have her._

_I will be doing what I can to ensure the Weasley boy is removed from the school grounds pending a full medical work up. I do think it’s possible there is something amiss with him, and I don’t know what Dumbledore is thinking. I will reach out to the Board of Governor’s and perhaps Lucius Malfoy, to see what might be done. Madam Pomfrey is an old acquaintance, as well, so something may be done there as well. I will do whatever I can from this end, but you must be very careful. Keep those you trust around you, and do not be anywhere alone where he might find you. You have worked much too hard to have all of your effort be for naught._

_I do find it rather interesting, though, that you’ve never been his target. He targeted Mr. Malfoy and Miss Weasley. You were in proximity, yes, but you were not the target. I would also caution your two friends to remain aware of their surroundings. I am sure you have already done so but thought it best to relay my thoughts on the matter in case something should happen. Err on the side of caution, always, but do not be afraid to act. That is the best advice I can give to you._

_I miss you greatly, Granddaughter, and look forward to your company over Yule. We have so much to discuss and I cannot wait to see you._

_Love,_

_Your Opa_

Relief flooded through Hermione at the idea of her Grandfather trying to fix this situation with Ronald. She felt vindicated in her thoughts and feelings about the wizard. Hermione was glad she had another person working another angle to remedy the problem, because nothing had been done even after Ron had attacked them during the first task. Hermione made a mental note to include Professor Snape in the planning to remove Ronald from the Hogwarts campus. The man was capable and often privier to what the Headmaster was plotting given his position. Dumbledore was happy to turn a blind eye to the affliction which had befallen Ron, and she feared that would be the case unless someone was severely hurt or died. Hermione didn’t feel like waiting was the best option and was trying to have something done preemptively. So far, the only ones who seemed to agree with her inside the school were Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall, but they could not override the Headmaster. More’s the pity, really.

The old fool had approached her about being the object of Krum’s affection for the second task, but she had happily refused. One, she was not interested in Viktor Krum. He couldn’t speak English and he was always staring at her in a somewhat predatory fashion. The Headmaster had not been pleased, but, two, Hermione was under no obligation to accept and she knew it. He would have to find someone else to agree with being frozen in a suspended state and dropped to the bottom of the Black bloody Lake. She was not going to cooperate with the farce. The Bulgarian wizard may have been handsome, but Hermione had other things on her mind, and she couldn’t very well _use_ her mind if she was freezing to death slowly at the bottom of the lake surrounded by Merfolk. No, thank you ever so.

The old wizard was quite put out by her unwillingness to participate in the tournament, but Hermione couldn’t care less about what he wanted. Somehow, she had apparently had yet to make that clear to the man, but again, she had better things to do. She was more than just an “object of affection” for a wizard who was three years her senior and who knew _nothing about her whatsoever._ They hadn’t even had a conversation! He just sat with her and her friends in the library sometimes, and she ended up having to glare at the witches who were always tracking him through the school so they would _shut up._

Merlin, not even the library was sacred anymore, not when he was around. When Hermione really needed to focus on something she had just started going to the Room of Requirement. It was really the only chance she had to work on her projects anymore, and the only place she could truly find quiet if she needed it. Of course, that’s not to say there weren’t typically others with her there, but they knew better than to disturb her when she got _that_ look. Luna and Draco were the only two who could interrupt her when she was so intensely studying or working a problem out. Luna was the one who would say something that seemed outlandish, but it would always prompt an epiphany of sorts on Hermione’s part. This had happened enough that Hermione just let it happen now. Draco would only interrupt her when he could see she needed to eat, or sleep, or to take a break. He knew the extent of the work she was trying to do, at present he was one of the few who truly understood, so he kept her from going mad by insisting she _sleep_ and take care of herself. He had taken on the role of crazy witch wrangler the night he had called for Dotty to put her to sleep in Snape’s office.

_She told them about how she thought there was a possibility there might be more, because why would Voldemort split his soul only the once. There had been rumors of his return ever since Harry came back to the Wizarding World. They talked until the Pepper-Up wore off. They talked about possibilities. They talked about the best way forward. They talked about all of Hermione’s plans that night, the three of them. They talked and theorized, and they came up with many answers, but a lot more questions._

_“So, to be clear, you’re proposing to essentially enchant the wands of Death Eaters to refuse to cast the Unforgivables? And if they try to do so, their wands will be turned into Portkeys that will land them inside of a cell in Azkaban?” Snape queried._

_Hermione nodded at him. “Essentially, yes, and I am doing this without anyone’s knowledge aside from those I entrust with it. I need allies, but I can’t have this getting back to Death Eaters or Dumbledore. I doubt I will be able to get to Voldemort’s wand, but if his Death Eaters are all incarcerated with_ proof _of their lawlessness, there isn’t much to be done. He won’t have an army, anymore.”_

_“Not only that, but they won’t have any idea what’s happened to their brethren. Ensuring the portkey is set to trigger based on the intent of the spell is quite genius, Mi. It means they would likely be sent to Azkaban_ before _there are indicators of what they were going to cast.”_

_“That was part of the idea. I was hoping it would unsettle them all.”_

_“Oh, I should say that would be unsettling. What if someone you had known your entire life just up and vanished after trying to cast a spell and nothing remained of them? I think that will be quite off-putting for them to experience, and it adds an element of psychological warfare that may even affect them, insane as they are,” Professor Snape mused._

_“That was the intention. If his followers keep disappearing with no trace, then how is he to know they’ve not just abandoned him? It will hopefully unsettle him as much as the Death Eaters,” Hermione grinned at them tiredly._

_“How long have you been planning this?” Draco wanted to know. This wasn’t something that was borne of an errant thought. The things she was working towards didn’t happen overnight._

_“Well, the end of first year really,” Hermione almost whispered, looking down at her hands._

_“Mi, are you telling me you’ve been plotting the bringing down of an evil sociopath since you were twelve?”_

_“Err—yes?”_

_She looked up to see Professor Snape studying her rather openly, while Draco looked at her with his chin dropped in surprise. “What?! I knew who Harry was even then, and he told me what he saw towards the end with the stone. He…Professor Quirrell_ disintegrated. _Harry, though accidentally, killed a hapless shade of Voldemort when he was twelve years old, and the man the shade embodied. Do you honestly believe I wouldn’t’ have started thinking of how to rid us of the psychopath immediately? Harry was family to me, even then.”_

_Draco smirked at his godfather, “She really does not like it when people touch her things.” Hermione groaned, but the corner of her mouth twitch up ever so slightly._

_“So I see. I think it could work, definitely. You’re going to need allies on the inside, and you’ve already started on that. I can see your unwillingness to work with Dumbledore, and I can understand it. Eventually, others are going to need to be told, but we aren’t there yet and it’s best to have everyone in place first. Besides, I don’t like that Mr. Weasley has been found to be so very unstable. From what the two of you have shared with me, it has me worried about the state of most of the Weasley clan. This could prove to be problematic,” Professor Snape theorized._

_“I don’t think it’s all of them, though. My bet is on Molly. Ginny, the twins, Bill and Charlie…they all seem sane. I mean, they are Weasley’s so please factor that part out, but they do no act like Ron or his Mum. I don’t understand it. Could they be under the_ Imperius _or something similar to it?”_

_“While I appreciate your loyalty, Hermione, sometimes people are just bad people. I will be looking into it though, quietly.”_

_“Thank you, Professor Snape. This just, this behavior seems so out of character as opposed to the last few years.”_

_“While they have always been on the side of the Light, even good people can turn to the Dark.”_

_“Unfortunately, I don’t think truer words have ever been spoken. Oh, something that might help you though! I spoke with Lavender and Parvati about why they were going through my things awhile ago. It turns out that_ Ron _asked them to!” Hermione scowled._

_“That’s rather interesting,” Snape puzzled. “I wonder what he could have been looking for in your personal items.”_

_“I haven’t the foggiest, but I thought you might like the information. And please, be careful. Dumbledore seemed to be complicit in the plans Molly was trying to enact with me over the summer. I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t want you to be found out and killed before we can actually end this war.”_

_“It’s cute how she worries about you Godfather,” Draco laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes and sipped her tea. Slytherin’s were a handful, but she found them to be rather good company._

Hermione smiled at the memory. Slytherin’s had indeed become good company for her. She would need to discuss her Opa’s letter with Snape soon, so he would be prepared for whatever fallout there might be. It was only polite, and no one enjoyed being blindsided. Hermione finished her tea and headed up to the Tower with Ginny and Harry.

_The Room of Requirement was full of all the people important to her. Ginny had slept well the night after Snape had_ obliviated _her, better than Hermione had anticipated anyway. She needed to inform them all of what happened in the dungeons, because they all needed to be aware Ronald Weasley was an unstable wizard. Hermione was waiting for everyone to arrive after dinner. Luna was the last to saunter in, and she made herself at home directly on Blaise’s lap. Blaise looked taken aback for a moment, but then smiled and wrapped his arm around the lithe witch’s waist and kissed her on the cheek._

_Everyone was observing this interaction, but the curly haired witch was watching the astonishment on her best friend’s face. Harry was somewhat at a loss for what he’d just seen happen, but he thought it made sense. Where else could the two of them freely interact and be together, other than here? For that matter, the Room of Requirement was full of easy companionship of people from different houses. They interacted and chatted in here as people first and took their houses into consideration as an afterthought. It should have always been this way. The house system was antiquated and sowed strife between students. Harry forced himself to stop staring at the striking couple nestled in the chair together, and Theo caught his eye and winked at him. Harry could feel his cheeks blazing red, so he looked at the floor and waited for Hermione to convene this meeting._

_“Okay, that looks like it’s everyone! I have some news to tell you all, and it’s probably not going to be as shocking as I would like for it to be, but it’s important nonetheless,” Hermione paused to see if anyone was going to interrupt her. They were not. “Last night, when I was with Ginny and Draco in the dungeons to see Professor Snape, we were attacked by Ronald Weasley.” Harry’s face darkened with extreme dislike, while Draco stepped just a bit closer to Hermione for support._

_“Ron cast a spell that should honestly be considered an Unforgivable. Draco had hidden Ginny and I from Ron and tried to distract him. Ginny was in no state to do much of anything for reasons that I won’t discuss. They aren’t relevant to this. I recognized the spell Ron tried to use and confounded him before he could harm Draco, but it was a near thing. If Parkinson and Greengrass hadn’t collected Professor Snape it could have been much worse. Professor Snape took him to Dumbledore, and I haven’t heard anything else, yet. The point is, you all need to be alert and we need to look out for one another. I don’t know what is going on with Ronald Weasley, but he’s not stable and he’s shown he’s willing to attack us.”_

_“Why is not expelled?” Harry grit out._

_“I don’t know, Harry. He should be, but he isn’t.”_

_“Thank you for letting us know, Hermione. I don’t know what he was thinking. What spell did you say he used?” inquired Theo._

_“I didn’t say but suffice it to say it was Dark and illegal.”_

_“Well then, that’s unexpected. How dark?”_

_“Quite dark,” Draco replied gravely. “I would hesitate to use this spell. In fact, I’m not sure I ever would use this spell, so very dark.”_

_The faces in the room turned grim at that expression. Pureblood children were raised to believe Dark magic was just magic, and in a way, Hermione could agree with that. Intent was important. Intent could make any spell Dark, regardless of if it was a tickling jinx or a Crucio. “So, stay on your guard and travel in pairs, everyone. Hopefully, he is expelled, but I won’t be holding my breath in that regard. Dumbledore has shown he doesn’t always think clearly, what with him trying to force Harry to compete in the Tournament and everything. Just, be careful.”_

The common room was surprisingly mellow for a Thursday night. The twins must have been focused on one of their many inventions because the chaos was kept to a minimum. They were sitting in front of the fire, on the couch in silence.

“I think I might ask Theo out,” blurted Harry. He was staring into the fire when Hermione turned to look at him. Ginny was grinning at his outburst.

“I think you two would be cute together,” Ginny replied genuinely. Hermione loved her friends.

The tired curly haired witch stood up and pulled them both into a hug, kissing the two cheeks closest to her. “I have the best family.”

“That you do, Mi. Speaking of dating,” Ginny wheedled, “when are you going to put Draco out of his misery?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Not for a while, yet. He needs to learn patience, and I am very busy.”

“I bet he asks you to the Ball, Mi,” Harry joined in.

“Then he will have to ask, won’t he?” Hermione grinned at them and made her way to her bed. She was beyond tired and could use the rest. _Though,_ she thought, _if Draco is brave enough to ask me to go to the Yule Ball, I’m going to have to be brave enough to answer._ She only hoped he would, though she didn’t feel as if she had the time for a boyfriend, or dating, or snogging in alcoves. She was a teenage girl, after all, and he was fit.


	19. The Ball, The Project, and the Lunch?

Herrenhaus was something out of a picturesque Yule postcard. The snow was unblemished, crystalline, and glittering in the morning sunlight. The home had been tastefully decorated inside and out with holly, sprigs of mistletoe, and garlands. The mistletoe seemed to move from its previous location when you weren’t looking at it, so you were never going to know where it was to avoid it. The house-elves had gone above and beyond.

A large fir tree, sixteen feet tall or so, was in the main sitting room. It was impeccably decorated with new and old ornaments. They had made new ones to add to the tree this year, as was tradition. The tree was beautiful, Hagrid would have been proud of the selection. The Yule log was in the fireplace, decorated and ready to be lit in a few days on Christmas. Hermione was so very happy to be home spending time with her Grandfather. She was also sad, she missed her parents, but she couldn’t do anything about missing them. She had decided to embrace it, to miss them, but not let it ruin everything.

She wandered slowly through her homemaking her way down to breakfast. She had a good cry this morning, and she was determined for it to be the only way for today. The manor really was quite beautiful. The whole place smelled like apples, cinnamon, clove, pine needs, sugar cookies, and vanilla. It smelled like any home might at Christmastime, at least if anyone in it cooked. She didn’t doubt the elves had been busy preparing for the party, the way the delicious scents permeated the house. For a moment she felt like crying again, but she pushed back the urge.

“Good morning, dear,” her smiling Opa called to her.

“Good morning, please tell me there’s coffee!” Hermione smiled back at him.

“Of course, there’s coffee! Dotty wouldn’t deny you coffee.”

“Dotty is my favorite.”

“She does spoil you.”

“She does.”

“She had your favorites made for breakfast.”

“I can see that.”

“Drink your coffee, Granddaughter.”

Hermione smiled into her cup and sipped her coffee. It had been perfectly prepared, and she was happy to be home. They ate their breakfasts in companionable silence, enjoying the company of the other. Neither liked to talk first thing in the morning, so this suited them just fine.

“Opa, do you think you could work with me today on the project? I know you’ve got a lull in business and Yule time means you get a break. Think I can convince you to keep me company?” Hermione smiled at him.

“You absolutely can and have convinced me! I set wards on the shop to alert me if there’s an emergency, but we should remain uninterrupted otherwise. Show me what progress you’ve made?”

“It’s all in the library. Let’s go!” Hermione smiled at her Grandfather, pleased to be able to spend time with him, and hoping he had an idea to help her. She had made progress, but she didn’t feel as if it were enough progress to really make a difference. She was having difficulty tying all the spells together.

“I remember you writing that you had hit a bit of a dead-end. Still the same issue?” Ollivander asked as they neared the library.

“In a sense, I suppose. I’m trying to do as you suggested and make it easier on myself. I just can’t seem to tie it all together and I could use a fresh set of eyes who understands what I’m trying to accomplish here. I love my friends but they don’t know what you do,” Hermione said sweetly.

“I’m happy to look. My guess is you’re overthinking it, though.”

“You’re probably correct, but I’d rather have you look at it. I’ve been staring at the problem for too long.”

Garrick laughed and accompanied his granddaughter to the library as requested. She had taken over a table with all of her books and notes. He could see she had begun attempting to create a runic circle like he had suggested to direct her magic. He could also tell she was trying to be too specific. “Give me a little while to look this over and I’ll mark down suggestions for you.”

“Okay, I’ll just catch up on some letters, then!” Hermione replied with a smile. She did, in fact, have a pile of post to get through. They had left Hogwarts the morning after the Yule Ball, and she had not read or answered any of her letters when she got home. She was too tired and figured they would keep. She pulled the first letter from the top of the pile and smiled at Ginny’s familiar handwriting.

_Dear Mi,_

_You looked so beautiful at the Ball! And I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you were going to go with Draco sodding Malfoy, witch! Viktor Krum was as unable to keep his eyes off of you as your date was, which is saying something to be sure., considering Draco was devouring your form quite greedily with his eyes. I watched though, and he was the perfect gentleman. I was ready to hex him silly if his hands strayed, but he miraculously behaved. Not what I expected from him, but I suppose I should have._

_Dotty did a wonderful job on your dress robes! Honestly, she’s brilliant in her abilities, Mi! She found the perfect shade of silver for you to wear! And that full skirt? Merlin! You stood out Mi, and not in a bad way. You looked wonderful and I am jealous of your house elf! She’s better than Madam Malkin, I swear! Anyway, I just wanted to touch base with you and tell you that you looked amazing all night long. Write me back yeah? I need details about what happened with Malfoy!_

_Love,_

_Ginny_

Hermione chuckled through Ginny’s letter, then set to giving her a reply. She would surely be rather put out by the fact Draco had been a perfect gentleman all night, aside from the smoldering looks. Draco Malfoy knew how to make sure you were aware of his appreciation of you with only his eyes. It was a skill, to be sure, and Hermione most definitely appreciated it. Oh, there may have been a snog in there, somewhere, but she was _not_ putting that in a letter for Molly Weasley to find.

_My Dearest Ginny –_

_You, my dear, are going to be sorely disappointed about my evening. He truly was the perfect gentleman. His hands never wandered, and he took good care of me all evening. Though I will impart that if you thought the eyes, he was giving me from afar were something, you would have melted to see them up close. Draco knows how to make a witch feel appreciated, and I most certainly did all night long. I don’t think he ever bothered to look at another witch unless Pansy or Daphne spoke to him. He has a way of making me feel as if I’m the only person in the room, and that’s impressive. I might be willing to discuss the evening in more detail in person._

_I am unsure what Krum’s problem is. He makes me uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Did I tell you that he asked me to go to the Ball with him one night when I was studying in the library? I was as polite as possible when I turned him down, but honestly, we’ve never spoken and he’s always staring at me. I hope I didn’t upset him, but he’s three years older than me, and the staring is quite disconcerting. I may need to speak with Professor Snape about that when we return to school. Maybe he can do something about it. I shouldn’t have to be escorted to the bloody library for fear of a Bulgarian student following me around._

_I will happily tell Dotty you are singing her praises. I believe if you ask very nicely, Dotty would be more than happy to dress you. She can’t help herself, really. She loves to spend time with witches, and she loves clothes nearly as much as you do. I basically give her full reign over my wardrobe, it means I don’t have to worry about looking like a fool and it makes her happy. If you’re planning to come to the Yule party, come a few days early. Dotty, I’m sure, will be happy to pamper you a bit. She’s the best._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

She sealed up the letter with a smile, knowing full well Ginny would be over shortly after she received it. Darting a glance at her Grandfather, Hermione could see he was still working at the runic circle. She decided to grab another letter and see if she could get through and answer a second one. She smiled and broke the wax seal.

_Sister Mine,_

_I am quite cross with you. I can’t believe you went to the Yule Ball with Draco sodding Malfoy and you didn’t think to mention it to me! You know I almost had a heart attack, right? Literally, right there on the dance floor –_ Hermione snorted at his dramatic telling. Theo was rubbing off on him. – _to see my sister in the arms of the Slytherin Prince! Yes, yes, I know you’re going to tell me I can’t be pointing fingers given I was there with Theo, but sister dear, YOU HAD NOTICE! You failed to tell anyone who you were going to the Ball with! Not even Ginny knew! Theo and I had to run interference for you throughout the night, too. That Krum character was rather fixated on you. Really, it’s unsettling and something needs to be done about it. -_ Hermione rolled her eyes as if she weren’t aware being stalked by someone three years your senior at a dance and otherwise throughout the school was cause for concern. Honestly. – _Thankfully Theo and I had a bit of fun with that, dancing and whatnot to make sure we were in his way. I’m not sure he knew what to do with us seeing as how we just kept appearing long enough to keep him away from you, but it was fun anyway. I even saw Blaise and Luna get in on it a time or two. I also would not be shocked if Professor Snape noticed and asks you about it when term resumes. He seemed to be having words with that Kakaroff fellow during the dance and Krum was gone shortly after. I’m not sure how you’ve done it, but I think you’ve gotten yourself protection from the Head of Slytherin._

_I want details when I visit, which will be soon so be prepared. I’m taking your open invitation quite literally and you should probably expect Sirius, Remus, and I for dinner. Maybe even Theo, possibly. I’m not sure what his situation is going to be like at home and I’ve offered him a place to stay if it’s awful, which I am sure you understand._

_I love you, Sis,_

_Harry_

There was no reason to reply to this one. She knew Harry, Remus, and Sirius would surely be over this evening for dinner…the three of them would starve if not for other people cooking meals for them. Hermione rolled her eyes, thinking maybe she should get a couple of cooking classes for Remus and Sirius as a Christmas present. At least she would worry a little bit less if she knew they could make something like pasta. Harry could cook a little due to being forced to learn at the Dursley’s, but he wasn’t there most of the time. Kreacher did cook for them when asked, which was often, but Kreacher honestly hated to cook from what Hermione could glean. Yes, cooking classes seemed a good idea. She smiled to herself and pulled another letter from the pile.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I know I spent all night with you, but I still wanted to say thank you for spending your evening with_ me. _I had a wonderful time with you and can only hope your evening was as enjoyable as mine. You were magnificent, Mi._ -Hermione’s cheeks turned pink at the compliment, remembering how he has whispered in her ear about how beautiful she was, and how amazing she smelled all night. - _I was pleasantly surprised by the ease with which you danced, and even more pleased to dance with you in my arms all evening, you delectable witch. Even more impressive was your ability to look as beautiful as you did, maintain a conversation while dancing, and studiously ignore Viktor Krum! Honestly, you’re a young woman of many talents, who knew?_ -Hermione snorted at the obvious sass. -

 _We will be discussing the Krum issue later. Thankfully the second task is over and there’s only one left. Unfortunately, this does not necessarily mean he will be leaving the grounds, as I’ve heard from Godfather the last task won’t be for a few months, yet. So, we’re going to figure something out to keep that wizard away from you. His intensity is being noticed by teachers now, so perhaps they will be of some help?_ -Hermione rolled her eyes at the question. He’d been like this all year and no one had intervened yet. - _I mean, it’s rather doubtful, but I think I know a few we can trust to confide in._

 _I wanted to confirm with you I will be attending the Yule party at your home, as well as Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne. So plan for that. You’ve got a contingent of Slytherin’s to call your own now, which is fine by me as long as I’m the only_ wizard _you call yours. I so look forward to seeing you, Mi. I know I escorted you early to your dorm before we were to board the train, but I enjoy spending time with you and don’t approve of being told when and where I can do so. You’ve spoiled me this term with all of your attention and I am afraid I’m going to be expecting such treatment from now on._

_Now, I know you didn’t want to have to worry about this during the Ball so I did not bring it up per your request, however, I think I can safely impart to you in this letter that Ronald Weasley has, in fact, been expelled and his actions are being further investigated by the Aurors. You know how much I dislike Weasley, but I agreed with you that his actions since school resumed seemed to be outlandish for him. I’ve done what I can to ensure he gets a fair shake, but I’m sure Godfather will be able to do more in that regard. I can’t say I pity the git if his actions were indeed his own. I’ve only ever seen Godfather protective of me, but he was in a right state when I informed him of what Weasley had attempted before the Ball. I think you might have yourself another watchful eye, Miss Ollivander. I have to say, he’s a good ally to have in your corner if you ever need one. I will be bringing him along with me to the Yule party so he can get his hands on your memories. I thought it best it was handled quickly, and he has promised to keep us apprised of the situation. Mother has been most insistent the wizard be checked for foul play on my behalf. I personally think the Imperius was a likely culprit. Weasley could be hot-headed and impetuous, but I just can’t see him trying to force you like that. Snape said you were correct, the bracelet had been imbued with several compliance charms and some other, nastier ones. It was smart to speak to him immediately and to give him the bracelet. He had Professor McGonagall with him while he was testing it, and the Aurors have it now. Aren’t you happy we warned you about jewelry? I know you’re intelligent and you never would have worn it, but the spells on that bracelet were so potent that had I not happened upon you in the hallway I’m not sure I would have ever known what had happened. I’m glad I did though, Mi. I like you just as you are. I don’t want you under the power of someone else, I prefer your stubbornness._

_Anyway, we will discuss the rest of the unpleasantness with your Grandfather when we arrive. We will probably come a bit early, just so Godfather can escape before the crowd arrives. Plus, he’ll likely have an update of some kind and I would like that to be given in private. I’m aware the whole school knows about the attack by now, and that he’s been expelled, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to want everyone knowing every detail of your business._

_Let me know if dropping by is welcome. I’m probably bored already._

_DM_

Hermione laughed at the last bit. She was glad Ron was being looked at seriously. There was something amiss with the entire thing, and it hadn’t sat right with her. Hermione was on her way to prepare for the Yule Ball when she had been cornered by Ronald alone in the hallway. She hadn’t been too worried because she knew he didn’t have a wand, but he wouldn’t let her pass. Ron was much larger than she was and more athletic. She couldn’t get away from him if he didn’t want her to, so she didn’t run.

_“What do you want?” Hermione asked coldly._

_“I bought this for you, before the fight and everything. I just, I wanted you to have it,” Ron looked abashed, but lifted up a bracelet for her to see. It was rather ugly, to be honest. Hermione couldn’t fathom wearing something so hideous, and she didn’t know why he had thought she would. Then again, he had never been the best at giving gifts that were thoughtful or meaningful. It was clunky and gaudy, not at all something she would normally wear._

_“No, thank you. I know better than to accept jewelry from a wizard,” Hermione replied haughtily. She tried to remain cool as a cucumber, but she was really screaming for someone to find her internally. She needed someone’s help because even though she had her wand, she was no match for Ronald physically. It didn’t matter sometimes how smart you were, or how prepared. If someone bigger and faster than you got the drop, you had to hope someone came by to help you fight. Hermione had been in this situation once and twice, and she was really hoping for that helping hand, really, any time now._

_“It’s not like that, Hermione. Just take the bracelet,” Ron commanded, tone hard and edged. Ron never used to sound like that._

_“Again, I am not interested, Weasley. Let me pass, I have things to do,” Hermione returned. She hoped he would move. He was too close for her to even dare turn around, and even if she could manage to cast something in time it could easily miss. Ron had always been fast. The fact she was aware of this fleet footedness didn’t really help her, but it did at least make her aware of who she was up against if it did turn into a fight._

_“Hermione, I don’t like it when you call me that. I don’t like it when you talk to me that way. Why can’t you just take the fucking bracelet and do something the easy way for a fucking change, huh? Why can’t you just think about someone other than yourself?!”_

_Hermione didn’t bother to respond. She knew the set of his shoulders, the pulsing vein in his face, the tensing and swaying of his legs. He was about to move, and he going to do it fast. She had to be prepared to move, too, or she would stand no chance against him. Thankfully she could cast wandlessly rather well, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t just grab her and knock her out. That was not something she wanted to experience. Ever. This wizard was unbalanced, and she didn’t want to spend any time with him, thank you. She could feel her muscles ready to move at a moments’ notice. She just hoped it would be enough._

_Ron was suddenly moving toward her, toward her wrist with that damn bracelet. Hermione did not want it to touch her! She lunged to the right of him, hoping to dodge him and run into the common room, but he grabbed the neck of her jumper, choking her. She couldn’t go forward, so she collapsed to the ground to try and get her jumper off. Unfortunately, Ron was smarter than he looked, and he was on her again, pinning one of her arms across his torso, trying to fasten the bracelet around her left wrist._

_The witch went feral. She kicked and screamed and tried to drag herself free. She aimed for anything she could reach. She remembered her father teaching her that clapping someone’s ears hurt like hell, so she tried that too. He wasn’t responding to any of the painful stimulus she was heaping on him. She tried pressure points; several of which should have been enough to force him to let go of her arm. Hermione slammed her right elbow into the side of Ron’s head, and all he did was_ grunt. _Hermione had learned how to defend herself at her Mum’s insistence. She still practiced in the mornings so she didn’t get rusty, so she knew Ron should have been unconscious from that hit alone. She started to scream and flail because nothing else was working and she was terrified._

_“SOMNUS!” Ron fell the to floor, releasing Hermione’s arm from his grip. She fell backward on her arse and started to shake. She scrambled away from him on her hands and knees until she met something hard. She turned her head up to see what it was, only to be greeted with the concerned face of Draco Malfoy. “Are you alright, Hermione?”_

_“N—not really,” Hermione managed to get out between gasps. She was having trouble controlling her breathing._

_“Are you physically hurt, Mi?” Draco tried again._

_“N-No,” she hissed out. She pulled her wand and pointed it at Ron, “Immobulus.”_

_“He’s going to sleep for a good long while, yet. Why did you do that?” Draco asked, leaning down next to her. She was nearly sitting on his feet._

_“Because you need to get Professor Snape and I have to stay here. I’m not staying here if he can move,” Hermione replied numbly. Draco pulled her up to her feet and turned her around to face him._

_“Mi, you’re not staying here. You go and get Professor Snape. I will wait. He will not move and nothing will be touched, alright? I promise you, he won’t get off this time. He won’t be able to attack you again. Go, get Snape.” Draco ordered. He knew she was still shaken from the ordeal, but he would not have her sitting here with her attacker. “I’ll ward the hallway so no one else can get through until you get back. Do you trust me?”_

_She found that she did, actually. “Of course, I do Draco. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m interrupting his classes if I have to,” she replied. “Be careful, and silence him if he wakes up….just in case.”_

_Draco just nodded at her. He knew Weasley would sleep for another few hours, but in case he did wake, he would be taking her advice. The witch stepped back from him and pulled herself together in front of his eyes. By the time she walked out of view in the hallway, you would have never known she had just been attacked, shaking and sobbing in the corridor. He wasn’t sure if that was the Slytherin or the Gryffindor in her, and he didn’t care. He appreciated her resilience._

She penned a note over to Draco that he was welcome to visit whenever he liked, just to fire call to make sure she wasn’t napping or something. She knew he would likely be coming to visit moments after she sent this letter, and that was alright with her. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know all of her secrets. Okay, most of her secrets. A girl had to have some mystery about her, or a bloke would get bored.

Thankfully, Snape had not had a class when she had arrived at his office. He was doing some grading. He took one look at her and asked what happened. She shook her head and told him to read the memories because she was not talking about it yet. Professor Snape remained calm. He handed her a calming draught, told her to take it and remain in his office until he came to get her, and he disappeared. Hermione took the calming draught gratefully and waited until she was retrieved by Snape, Draco, and her head of house. She had been insistent that she didn’t want to ruin the Yule Ball with this, so she and Draco hadn’t discussed it all night. She promised she would give Professor Snape her memories at his earliest convenience, and it seemed he was going to make a house call to retrieve them. Draco was correct, he must be rather irritated at the whole situation to venture from the castle during the holidays. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Professor Snape celebrate the holidays, now that she thought about it.

Hermione shook her head clear of the memories of Ronald’s passive and cruel face. She didn’t want to think about that right now. She wanted to think about Draco in his silver and white suit, and how he smelled while they danced. She couldn’t make the scent out, but it had been lovely. She added the return letter for Draco onto her stack and looked over to see what her Grandfather was up to. He had also been trying to remove Ronald from school for his previous attack, but after the one from a few days ago, there was no way he was going to be able to remain at the school.

He still seemed to be pondering over things at the corner desk, but Hermione wasn’t in the mood for writing letters anymore. She would much rather prefer puzzling out a solution with her Grandfather. She fired called the Burrow and Malfoy Manor to send her letters over. It was faster, and generally more secure than sending letters by owl. Owls were fantastic when you had to use them, and most family owls had protective charms and antitampering spells, but when she was home and had access to the Floo, so she used it.

She sauntered over to the table and waited for her Opa to finish his thought. When he looked up at her, she knew it was safe to speak. She supposed they were similar when it came to interrupting a thought process; in a word, don’t. “Yes, Hermione? How can I be of assistance?”

“Talk me through it?”

Garrick sighed at her playfully. “Child, you’re thinking too hard. This runic circle is far too complicated, don’t you see? All you need to do is give your magic direction, your intention will seal the magic.”

“But doesn’t that leave the possibility of the layering being tampered with if someone figures out what I’ve done?”   
  
“Do you imagine anyone else knows how to disenchant and layer Ollivander family magics?”

“Well, no…”

“No, you clever witch. And, you can always seal the spell with a ward keyed to your magical signature, if you wanted. I would not recommend this, simply because it might be tracked by someone if they’ve touched it before.”

“Let’s not find out about whether or not that is possible then. I’ll just forgo that becoming a possibility, thank you.”

“I thought you might feel that way, and I approve.”

“So how do you suggest I layer the runes then?”

“This is essentially a direction intent spell. You don’t need much. I would use Uruz, Eihwaz, and Hagalaz. If you situate them in a triangle, set the wand in the middle, and cast with your intent, you should be able to manage linking all the spells to the trigger to port them easily. It would be a lot easier than trying to do all three linking’s wandlessly and risk them reacting inappropriately, or you becoming too tired to finish the spells,” her Opa explained.

“This is one of those things that I’m not grasping because I was brought up as a Muggle isn’t it?” Hermione asked blandly.

Garrick blanched, “Probably yes. But, it isn’t a problem. Runes are something you understand the more you work with them. They’re much like magic in that intention and feeling matter. You can direct your intentions and the runes strengthen them. It’s…. similar to using Tarot cards, yeah? Some people are gifted with them, and others are not.”

“That actually makes sense, thank you. Certain people have certain affinities.”

“Exactly. I can’t say whether or not runes will be one of yours. You’ve barely had to do anything with them, but you will learn how they work and how to use them the more you attempt to use them. It’s like anything else, the more you study it the more you figure out.”

“Thank you, Opa,” Hermione said warmly.

“You’re most welcome, Granddaughter.” Garrick stood and pulled his Granddaughter into a hug. As she was pulling back from him, the Floo roared to life and a disembodied head was poking from the flames. Hermione spun around and laughed.

“Hey, Mi! Up for some company?” Draco asked with a smile.

“I told you if I wasn’t napping I would not oppose seeing your face, even if your chin is too pointy,” Hermione teased.

Scoffing, Draco emerged fully through the flames, siphoning off the ashes. “Please, Hermione. My chin is perfect for my face and you know it,” he smirked at her. “Mr. Ollivander, lovely to see you! Thank you for allowing me to visit. I’ve missed this witch!”

“You saw me on the train, Draco!” Hermione managed to laugh out.

“Yes, well, you were sleeping the whole way!”

“Because someone had me out dancing all night!”

“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.”

“And I’m not complaining now, I was just tired on the train.”

“Hence why I wanted to see you, witch!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled Draco into a hug. “As you can see, we are friends,” she addressed to her Opa.

Garrick smiled at her knowingly. “Mmm. Yes, I see. Friends. Dancing all night at the Ball. Mmhmm. Tea anyone? I think I need some tea. I’ll have lunch prepared. See you both in about an hour. “

Hermione rolled her eyes at her Opa’s antics as he left the library to the two teenagers. Probably not the wisest decision he had ever made, but, Hermione wasn’t about to defile the library. Draco slung his arm around the witch and pulled her into his side. “How are you, Mi?”

“I’m alright, really. Also, you might want to prepare for some other visitors. I imagine Ginny, Harry, Sirius, Remus, and possibly Theo will be here before dinner.”

“But what if I wanted you to myself?”

“Tough luck, I suppose. I’m a very popular witch, you know. I have a lot of friends and family who miss me as much as you,” Hermione teased him, twining her fingers around the hand that dangled off her shoulder.

“I don’t think that’s accurate, Mi. You’re _mine,_ witch. I’m keeping you.” Draco had a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was a sure sign he was teasing but trying to get a rise out of her.

“I belong to no wizard, Draco Malfoy. I suggest you get used to the concept of autonomy,” Hermione huffed.

Draco swung her around to face him, cradling her face in his hand. “I just don’t want anyone else doing this,” he said making eye contact. He lowered his eyes to her lips for a fraction of a second, a warning to stop him if she planned to. She did not, in fact, plan to stop him. Hermione leaned into his chest and tilted her head up to him, while he lowered his. The kiss started softly, a grazing of the lips, a polite how do you do, but then he pulled her firmly against his body with his arm and slanted his mouth over hers, nipping and pulling at her lips, battling for dominance, dancing back and forth. Hermione wrapped her arms around her wizard and rose on her tiptoes, letting him control the movement of her head and the speed of the kiss happily. Draco Malfoy knew how to kiss, and he was igniting a flame low in her belly that was best ignored right now. She let out a soft moan, opening her mouth to him. Draco’s fingers twined deeply into her hair, massaging her scalp as he swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, cherishing her. Hermione slid her tongue along his playfully, putty in his hands. A few moments later, Draco broke the kiss and pulled back enough to look into her eyes. “My witch,” he said with a smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Fine, you have _my consent_ to call me your witch.” She rather liked the sentiment, this wizard, and his kisses. She smiled back at him and stepped away from his chest. “Let’s go get some tea, I’m suddenly very thirsty.”

“Whatever you like, Mi,” Draco bowed mockingly. She scoffed, grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards the door…Where Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Theo were staring at them. Bugger.

“Err, hi,” she said awkwardly waving with her free hand.

“Bloody hell, Mi. If I knew he could kiss like that I’d have tried to date him, myself,” Theo grinned at her. Hermione groaned, turned pink, and covered her face with her hands. She did not want to do this, ever.

“I have to agree, Mi. He looks like a bloody fantastic kisser,” Harry added, grinning too widely when she looked up at him. No. Oh no. That spelled trouble.

“Draco, I’m really sorry. You’re about to be subjected to some things I’m sure you would rather avoid, but since most of my family just saw you kissing me I can’t do much about it,” Hermione informed him with a smile. She knew he was in for a bit of razzing. Hopefully, he could put up with it from all of her family at once. “Oh, and when Ginny gets here, you should tell her yourself. If she finds out from anyone other than you or I, we’re both in for a nasty hex.”

“Great. I absolutely needed irate best friends hexing off my bollocks because someone else found out I kissed you before she did,” Draco drawled. “Fine, I’ll corner her and tell her when I see her, but you better do your best to protect me if I can’t hex them back, witch.”

Hermione smiled and laced their hands together, tugging him towards the doorway. Towards tea and total annihilation, likely. This was going to be a very interesting afternoon, Draco was sure of it. They were going to poison his tea! Prank him. They were going to hex him when he wasn’t looking and cause him to trip down the stairs. His very distant cousin Sirius was going to string him up by the toes and hit him with a tickling jinx until he embarrassed himself completely. Draco quietly groaned but followed his witch to tea. Hopefully, she wouldn’t let it get that bad.

The group around the door had broken up and started ahead of them, which made Draco happy. He didn’t want to have all of them at his back. What if they missed and one of the hexes hit Hermione instead? No, it was better to just put that portion of antics off until she wasn’t in the vicinity. He had to admit he was happy to see Theo here with Harry, though. One, it meant they were doing well as a couple, and two, it meant Theo wasn’t stuck in the decrepit Manor his family had called home with his father. If Theo had already divulged some things about his father to Harry, well that was a good sign for the future, and Draco couldn’t help but hope that Theo would be clear of the prick soon. If his father died or went to Azkaban Theo would automatically be made the Head of the Line. That was really the best case scenario. The longer Nott Sr. was alive and free made it more likely Theo would be in pain, and Draco didn’t approve of that one bit.

“Why is it your Grandfather is so okay with us, to the point he left us _alone_ in the library, but the rest of your family is ready to tear me apart, Mi?” Draco asked hesitantly, and quietly. He didn’t want to be overheard.

“Because, Cousin,” Sirius interjected from ahead, “You never saw Hermione crying after you bullied her. You never saw her upset after the words you said to her finally wormed their way into her mind and got to her. You didn’t have to pick up the pieces and heal her. You’ve apologized, but you didn’t live it with her, not like we did.” The black-headed man turned around and gave him a serious look. “I, for one, think you have an awful lot to prove when it comes to your treatment of our favorite little witch. So, don’t test me.”

Draco swallowed but looked the man in the face. He could see Hermione studying them both out of the corner of his eye. “While I appreciate your protectiveness, because she is family to you, it’s not my intention to ever hurt Hermione ever again. That being said, I think Hermione is capable of making her own decisions and I’ll let you two fight about what you just did amongst yourselves.”

Hermione smirked at him, and he knew he had said the right thing. Whether or not Sirius had been aware of what he was doing, he just ousted Hermione’s personal business. Now, Draco already had known that she’d been truly upset by some of the things he had said to her. He may not have seen it then, but he had seen it over the current year. Working on Occlumency and Legilimancy together didn’t exactly foster the keeping of secrets…what it did foster was seeing each other’s painful memories and having to talk about them. If you didn’t talk about them, every single time you looked at that person would be a reminder of it and then you wouldn’t be able to do anything but _relive_ that memory every time you practiced with each other. Airing the grievance and talking about the conflict helped both parties drop it. It was annoying, but it was what they had been doing with each other for months now. He had already seen the memories of him bullying her, and he had seen her break down afterward. They had already discussed them, he’d already apologized for each one, and they had decided to leave those in the past.

Sirius had just brought all of that back up to the surface again for Hermione, and he knew his curly-haired witch was not going to approve of his words, even if she approved of his intentions. Wisely, Draco was going to stay out of it. Sirius had just stepped in it, and he was going to let his witch handle it however she saw fit, because honestly, she was scary brilliant, and he enjoyed watching her work. “That’s wise of you, Draco. You’re very smart, and you’re forgiven,” Hermione purred at him. “You, however, Uncle, are on my shit list.”

The witch sniffed, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and walked past Sirius without another word. Draco shrugged at the confused wizard and followed her for lunch and tea. Sirius might figure it out one day, but all Draco knew was he wasn’t going to be getting in the middle of the tiff. No, thank you. Hermione could handle herself, and she didn’t need him butting in. Sirius would learn eventually. Hermione wasn’t eleven years old anymore, and while she still wanted to be a kid and live life as if she were, she wasn’t. Hermione hadn’t been a child since being petrified by a Basilisk. Or, perhaps it was discovering her parents had been murdered in her childhood home and being lied to by a man she had looked up to about it. Or maybe it was that she had been plotting long term to ensure a psychopath intent on burying her best friend was going to die before he got so much as a hair on Harry’s head. Draco couldn’t be sure where she had lost her innocence, but the fact was, it was gone. She wasn’t in denial anymore; she knew what was happening in the world around her and she didn’t have a choice but to remain cognizant of it if she wanted to survive. So, no thank you, Sirius Black would have to figure out how to survive the wrath of Hermione on his own.

Garrick was already seated at the table, which had been made to fit everyone for tea and lunch. Hermione hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she was seated at the table and her stomach growled. She smiled sheepishly at her Opa, and waited for everyone else to get settled in.

“Guess who we just caught canoodling in the library?” Harry asked her Opa with a grin.

“I would assume it was Hermione, and I would watch it if I were you, son. Hermione doesn’t like it when people stick their noses into her business, and she’s a smart witch. Draco is a good lad,” Garrick said with a smile.

Hermione knew Draco would be subjected to a wee bit of razzing by her family when they were caught, but her family wasn’t exactly pulling punches. In fact, one could say they were being arses, but at least she was present. They would not dare be awful to him in front of her, they knew better. It had probably helped Harry had though something had been going on between them all year. He had not been entirely incorrect.

What she had not counted on was Ginny’s appearance mid-meal, mid-razzing. No, she had not anticipated that, not for Draco to be the one to notice her presence before Hermione. She had definitely not expected for her friend’s presence to be announced by a shout from Draco along the lines of, “We’re dating Weasley, please don’t hex us!”

Hermione whipped her head in the direction of Ginny’s gasp, and then the squeal of joy, or possibly rage, that followed it. “I KNEW IT, YOU WENCH!”

“You couldn’t have! It just became official!”

“Doesn’t matter, I should have known first!”

“They’re sneaky, Gin!”

“Can confirm.”

“Hey!”

“We are not!”

“That’s just uncalled for, Mi!”

“Details. All of them.”

“Of course!”

“What do you mean, ‘of course’?”

“Yeah, just accept that as fact mate.”

“They tell each other everything.”

“What do you mean, everything?”

Ginny looked at Hermione, and they rolled their eyes in unison. Of course, that would be the thing Draco focused on, as if there wasn’t a rumor mill about him churning since he had come to school first year. “Everything,” the table chorused. Draco then proceeded to go paler than normal.

“Don’t worry,” Ginny consoled saccharinely, “I won’t reveal anything. I made a witch’s oath.”

“Oh for Godric’s sake, Miss Weasley. Sit down and have a bite to eat and some tea.” Garrick chortled at the dramatics ensuing at the table. “There will be plenty of time to scare young Malfoy later.”

“What do you mean, plenty of time to scare me? Sir, respectfully, she scared me by walking into the room. I’ve seen the hexes this witch has subjected her brother to and I certainly wouldn’t want one to befall me,” Draco sniffed haughtily.

Ginny laughed and found an empty chair, content with how the day had turned out. She had gotten into a row with her Mum about coming over to stay with Hermione, but she also didn’t care. After seeing some of the things her Mum had encouraged in Ron, after seeing the way she had been treated as decoration rather than the intelligent person she was, Ginny was quite cross with her Mum. She may not have a place to sleep when school let out for the year but that was the problem of later Ginny. Present Ginny was happy to enjoy the company of her friends, and the feeling of safety she felt here.

“You seem to have gotten wiser, Malfoy.”

“I’m dating Hermione. I very well had to grow as a person for her to notice me,” Draco heaved a put-upon sigh, but smiled at his witch.

“I couldn’t date such a vapid and cruel boy. I’m glad you grew up a little,” Hermione teased back.

“Mi, you know he’s still vapid and cruel right?” Theo asked between sips of his tea.

“He’s not cruel to me, and he was raised to be vapid. I’ll have to work on that but it’s going to take some time. In the meantime, this will do. We can change together,” Hermione said with a smile.

“I think we can all agree this Malfoy is still much improved,” commented Sirius.

“Yes, thank you for breaking his nose, Mi,” Theo said happily.

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s finish up this meal and get on with the day. I have things I need to do,” Hermione sniffed at them.

Apparently, everyone was staying, and that was fine by Hermione. Herrenhaus was huge and could easily accommodate guests. It was nice having the company, and even better to know none of the people here wished her ill. The exception might be Ginny, because she was indeed going to be demanding a story about her and Draco during the Yule Ball. Hermione might be risking a Bat Bogey with that conversation, but it would not do irreparable damage, at least.

Smiling at the thought of everyone staying and being nearby, Hermione was thankful for these people. She may not have her parents in her life anymore, but she still had many people who cared for her, and that mattered.


End file.
